They won't get it all...ever

It's Ours by Charles Bukowski

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.



I just love this poem. Everything about it. The time it took for me to read and receive his message was all the space I needed before they get to me. Little precious moments separate me from everyone and everything else.

Over and Out,
Penny Lane