The Last Step

Every day
We step closer
To our last step.

Remorse
Sadness
Regret

Or
Perhaps
The tempered tempests
Of our daily drugeries
May in fact become
A rattled rationing,
One unending
Rampart
From which
To see the vista
Of our erstwhile dreams.

I would not,
That if today
Became the cross haired spot,
Be tied to this, the trundled
Searching moment.

I shall be
on the beach
When the wave hits.

runningturtle87