by Gideon Burton
Whatever we collect along the way
to someplace else accumulates and drags
us with its ballast to the past. We say
we'd like to be efficient, trim the lags
beween our thoughts and actions. Yet we keep
the anchors and the sluggish mass that weight
our way with needless waiting. Whether steep
or disant ventures beckon, all our freight
becomes the pretext to remain inert
when all our agile movements are required
and pyramids like fallow in the dirt.
To build we need materials most fit;
two-thirds of what we gather isn't it.
Photo: flickr - swirlingyin
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