“Old Warehouse”
I feel like door just opened on
Fifth floor – Old warehouse, time was gone –
Fourth floor would soon return to me,
When fifth would not as fitting be.The floor is open space – a loft;
Potential’s there, and low the cost
(Except my past – which got me here,
But wouldn’t do to live, that’s clear).There’s others here whom I don’t know,
Who felt like me, but do not show
Such feelings now – what does one do
On fifth or sixth I did not choose.As back to fourth will roll around,
The door will open, I’ll go down,
Resume my life as lived before,
When lift exchanges load for more.So, Lord, what does one do up here?
My sitz im leben is not clear;
All this can turn upon a dime,
But present-future here is mine.
For time-span’s shift I start to feel
Is weird – so much of this new deal
Needs picking up for use these days,
Like parts of fourth’s departing ways.Lord, to engage this life renewed
Is what I want – engage this view,
And enter in its challenge now,
With numbered days it’s length allows.“Stu, you have nine months ramping up
To seventy – ’twill be enough
For you to get your head around
Fifth floor’s new life, where you’re now found.Thanks Lord for this.
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