This little life
glows and ebbs
at the cusp of time
nor here, neither there
a vagabond for all eternity,
or at least this lifetime borrowed
this lifetime lived
dare not to tease the delicate
it feels and sees
and for just a moment,
in a moment, seeks
another vagabond
traveling lonesome
down the same street
an unknown string pulling
and in that split moment
this little life breathes.