It’s A Funny Thing

It’s a funny thing, this thing called life–
one minute so much strife
another over there
the other over here
every minute of everywhere
tiptoes so you can’t hear;
like the sickly-sweet center of a cordial cherry
the wait spent waiting begins coagulating
all the while spent there instead of near
until finally you have a minute
to just be
only to find
the syrupy-center
has usurped the cherry,
in which case,
was it ever there
in the first place?
You can’t say
for you never bothered
to stop and look.


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