Inches

by jad

seeing inches of time

little spaces

made of a hesitation

reaches

to connect larger spaces

fuse and bind

inch after inch of time

life then is an allotment of inches

circumstances

formed by inches of temporal spans

a sigh

a snort

these are obvious culprits

with red hand the inch is found who snorts

at a funeral

or sighs

at a wedding

but is it not more exciting

and even romantic

to exalt in the more muted inch of moments

a lingering hand

a slow withdrawal from embrace

how we pursue these tiny pieces

these fractions

the two by ones in lego we search for

at the bottom of the bag

blistering, chaffing, scratching our hands

for the glory of the smallest square which

makes a difference

not in use

but in wholeness

they are the sequins comprising the vestment of our sum of days

the pageantry of relative perfection

completion of a life’s work

in a final, solitary knotted thread

after all, we die in an inch of time

only then made whole