The rays of the late-afternoon
sun are playing
cat-and-mouse with my
fingers on the keyboard…
darting to-and-fro as
the blinds move in the breeze,
putting little spotlights
on my veins
and the wrinkles around my knuckles
How can my hands look so old
when my heart is still so young? -
my fingers typing as fast as they can
as fast as they can -
following my racing mind,
not catching up
giving up…
allowing my mind to break away -
out the window,
chasing the rays
playing its own game of cat-and-mouse
with life itself.
YURI DURAAN
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/late-afternoon-musings/
