What time does

Everything was done by hand
at one time.
Taking down a tree and building
shelter.
Getting a fire going.
Killing game to bring meat
back to the clan.
Hands were dirty, rough.
Fingernails would be sharp
and brutalized.
Feet like leather. There was
no sunscreen.
Days spent surviving, must
have been marked by moments
of beauty.
Could those who lived almost
totally in survival mode see
a sunset and appreciate it?
How could they not?
Things have moved on since
that time.
Tools came into the picture.
Advanced minds could
mimic the beauty of that
very sunset.
Today’s hands are clean,
scrubbed multiple times a
day. Purel.
There are emory boards and
lotions.
Can those who live almost
totally in a world of
technology see a sunset and. appreciate it?
How could they not?
It still takes the breath away.

April 4, 2019 · poems


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