moment by moment.





Rough pebbles on a deserted beach,


wait for the coming tide to take its toll,


moment by moment,


eroding each pebble,


the jagged edges made whole.



I too lie on that empty beach of fate,


inured by the coarseness I have seen,


moment by moment,


of contorting myself to belong,


while losing my soul in the screeching throng.




The waves keep battering my soul, incessantly,


as I desperately try to fit into the role,


moment by moment,


splintered by the slivers of life’s icy shower,


a drop of dew in the early dawn hour,


perched on a fresh petal of a morning flower.