Monday, June 8, 2015

The Pill Box

These days we tell our
health, if not our age,
by the pills we take.

I notice this fact
as I go to fill
my pill dispenser.

Then I note, as well,
the very act proves
a fine way to tell

if I am present.
The moment’s spur is
the eternal space

between this and that
act, becoming fact
before our very

eyes.  Just so, whate’er
we may do draws us
nigh unto practice

of the presence of
the intimacy 
of ultimacy.

Like spilling a full 
pill box on the floor—
a bitter pill to swallow.

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