Present time


It's morning here. We notice the date,
look out the window, make a sandwich
and fear the worst without anything 
threatening us.

A morning at the edge of a calm little town
at the banks of a river. A church bell, 
a boat horn: It's time. Always.

This calling is enciting us, spurring us on,
no matter how still the grey light hangs over 
the water. 

Meanwhile a duck is bobbing undisturbed 
and the blossom is setting.
Their lives continuing unaffected,
taking place in the present.