Enough

 

We are afraid of things, different things, mostly small
meaningless things but they loom large—to us; casting long
shadows begun as insignificant events, maybe miniscule…
too small to notice, passing details, molecules of motion
lost in everyday breathing living moving forward, or
maybe not, maybe huge life altering, car crash sized circuses
with chaos singing a grand chorus of death and
destruction watched by impossible eyes in slow motion as
music-less songs of our lives ideas thoughts and dreams
were ending, were slipping into that last flash of sunlight as it
sets…disappears behind crested waves on blue black oceans.

But we don’t die, not from these small large miniature colossal
fears, no blood flows falls from wounds suffered…no bruising seen
across slowly aging skin, no mark, no foul but we feel…we think
we will die when these shadows rise and become solid reality, well
our reality, the one singular to us, held in trembling hand, eyed
by nervous thinking waiting watching…the second shoe, the
last first thing done…we imagine and that is enough; our reality runs
the same trails, the same roads—along passages—though our
brains…the same and different and all of it means that we
feel it..we really really really

feel it….and…

that is

enough

to be

afraid

of.

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