Late night of memory,
pupae of concentration,
thinking of and knowing that;
mute pulse of TV breeds lithe snores.
Ear and belly on cold linoleum,
the smallness of debris,
crumb and dirt;
feels strong on acute skin.
Out of sight refrigerator hums,
choired to my silent serenade,
it is felt and it is heard;
it is known.
Sensory experimentation of isolation,
just a young boy,
snuck from bed lying on floor;
playing alive.
A cell of the house I grow with,
too young perhaps,
for deep contemplation;
yet time is utmost in consideration.
Acknowledging the moment,
grasping back then and till then,
sensitivity for the immediate;
a snapshot of the senses, dog-eared in time.
Always available, always free of charge,
reach back and feel then now,
a gift from myself to whatever I will be;
a gift from myself to whenever I will be.
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