Haiku 47

from spring to winter’s

end, when i will rot or burn,

i sculpt a lifetime

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Balance Sheet

if time were money
we’d bank on death
taking an interest
in our capital sum

the years drop
like pennies
pounding us down

depreciating

day
by uncherished day

second
by unremembered second

our taxing lives
squandered
moment by moment
to a zero balance

our last breath

overdrawn