Ponderings

How is it that at this single moment in time

You are here

Reading

But as you flip from word to word

You’ll soon be done with this poem and move on

And, just like that, this precious moment will be long gone How is it that at this single moment in time

You are alive

And there’s a possibility that I might be dead

But you’re still reading what’s going on in my head

Is this immortality?

Or something else of that sort,

Perhaps another word that I just can’t think of How is it that at this single moment in time

You are reading this

You could be anyone,

Sitting (or standing) anywhere and I’ll never know

And you’ll never know anything about me other than what is contained in this poem.