Time is on my side

The problem with busy days is that they're so full of things to write about, and leave so little time to actually do it.  By the end, I'm scarcely able to stay awake, and everything runs together, however impressive it may have been at the time.  Days like today are the ones I enjoy the most, and also, not surprisingly, the rarest.  When we're given an evening meeting point at 10 AM and set loose in the city, with no particular worries about being lost or left behind, I really have a chance to relax, and explore and think.  I don't have to worry about where anyone is or what anyone else wants to do.  Instead of being a component of a tour group, I'm just me, in Florence.   Me, in Florence, sitting at an Irish pub run by Italians across the square from the Duomo, because why not?  Maybe I'll actually get to write something coherent and non-angry about what I see during the day.

Incantation #7

Spin the cartwheels of the dead. 

Extend your hands and wrap your minds around
and send them on their way.

Stir sacrilege and tribute.

Carry forward the unfettered, lose your
grip on the grinding halt. 

Cycles barrel on ahead. 

Spare the mirror just a glance to pace
yourself and map the wake.

Feigned sleepers won't be left back.

Horizons surge to draw them in, borne
helpless on the breaking crest. 

Don't take the bait from behind.

What might have been was never. Reality
is losing patience.

Time has not forgotten you.

No haven among the living is
passed over as he rolls.

Spin the cartwheels of the dead.