It Hurts To Be Present

It hurts to be present.
 
The robin lighted on the faded
fence her back to me and raised
her skirt and shit then flew away
fast.
 
The robin wasn’t like or as
anything. The robin was a robin.
So too the fence a fence and her
skirt of feathers and her shit.
 
I died a little more in the time
it took to see her. We are all
living and dying – me, the robin.
And you.
 
It hurts to be present.
 
 

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1 Comment

  1. Annie B on June 25, 2015 at 4:40 pm

    Right now it hurts especially. Sometimes wish for other than”present”.

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