Place

Two places at once. An art you seem to have mastered, learning to be where you are, and knowing that many times, you want to leave.
There's always something to do, somewhere to be, someone to be.
Yet I grab those precious moments, when I am here, and you are here, and the world is still.

About those long hazy days

Because sometimes, you'll walk through, right through, without stopping to pick up the lucky penny that rolled your way.
You'll reach the end, and you'll look for the penny, and it'll be long gone. If only you had stopped, paused, turned back just once.
But now it's too late, and tomorrow's a new day, and you're going to walk down the same way again.