These Slow Moments

I’m full!
Or I’m empty:
I can’t tell which.

But it’s clearly a case of extremes.

The mud trap makes me slow,
the dragging of my feet
leaving trails in the day behind me

and my hopes are just scratches
in the coffin lid of yesterday.

My eyes won’t open;
I have to see by feel.

Heaviness happens, and
lightness laments;

But tomorrow will hold me in health.

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