I am a knapsack
tied to an abandoned birch branch.
I am a pebble along the shoulder
of a four-lane highway, Route 55
chasing the sun.
I am a heads-up penny
on the floor of a train that’s non-stop
Chicago to Dallas.
I am the white, feathery seed
of a dandelion
flirting with the wind.
I am the worn soles
of a pair of Converse
speckled with rainwater and mud.
And you are time.
We move together
Each other’s desire,
each other’s demise.