16

Call it dying this empty space before the dawn
Trying before the light of day
Day day day
How suddenly with just a hint of curtain
It fades away

What's now walking upon the steps
Some small creature of amorphous size
Of amorphous shape

That it doth inch
And inch by inch
Doth makes its way
Closer to its end -

What is in that choice
Is that choice different than mine?

What if:
All that does seem to guide our way
Is but made by that same impulse
That causes the creature to move forward

What if earthworms are us all
And the dictum that we do think we do control
Is but, in fact, as conscious as that subterranean mind.