I saw you in a mud puddle the other day.
A portal it parted to the yesterday of yesterdays.
You and a boat I see floating on the puddle, curiously like a dry twig
Drifting and leaving a wake
In the muddled water like our lives passing through time.
I stomp like a toddler on the puddle and expect the vision to scatter
Instead I see images of you and a hammer and your shoe.
You squat in the alley, smashing helpless stones,
Once smooth as glass now shattered into a pile of
Jagged splintered rubble, left to begin again their
Eonic journey back to pebbled uniformity.
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