Tuesday, February 23, 2016

Your Last Seven

Once upon a chairlift,
The question had been asked,
What can one get done in seven minutes,
If someone was so tasked?

One could run, I think, one point three-six clicks,
If my memory's right,
Too, but for an added bit, play 'Hey Jude',
A duration both eternal and tight,

A set span that's fleeting, but what if changed,
To last seven on earth?
It would seem like an impossible ask,
Pregnant with Heimdall's girth,
What would you do?
Reach out or reach within?
My mom let go of truly ev'rything,
So not to miss death's true envelopment.

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