chicago (15) > It's Ours

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there is always that space there
just before they get to us
that space   that fine relaxer  the breather
while say
flopping on a bed thinking of
nothing
or say pouring a glass of water from the
spigot
while entranced by
nothing
that gentle pure space
it's worth
centuries of
existence
say
just to scratch your neck
while looking out the window
at a bare
branch
that space there
before they get to us
ensures
that
when they do
they won't get it all
ever.
Charles Bukowski