The Rip Post                                                                                              


Between a Pixie and the Sun

If all is happening that
has ever happened
If down is right-side out
and left is round
If green fields are full of
autumn mulch in springtime
and snow in summer
and your hair is short and long
and in-between
Then we're here every second that
was and will
On a fulcrum of light and plasma
shining, ticking, melting down, super-nova-ing
clutching hands into molten song
and ice
and space
and noise so loud it is quiet
and darkness so light it is clear
joined in a junk called time
somewhere between a pixie and the sun.

---Bogle

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