Peridot & Picture Cards

Ten life times ago I made peridot and picture cards,
and by and by what was in great measure became too small to deal out.

Time in short supply,
at every turning of the ticking clock,
here and now,
a breath,
a moon,
a sun,
forever on the wane.
Had we something extra.
A year.
Or perhaps a day,
then neither would complain how the creatures of our comfort,
pleased and pleasured and delighted…
Remain restless and resentful.
Three thousand days of wanting,
murmurs spread thick and inexhaustible…
Had we a century…
Or a time without end then,
would bury you in,
and find you again.
Once in peridot,
once in a picture card,
once by the hands of time and,
once again.