I thought of this ditty a few days ago while waking up. It seems appropriate here.
Awake but eyes still closed. I realized my feet were
extended, cold and bare, well beyond the realm of the quilt.
I buckled at the knees trying to stretch in vain the quilt back to its full length, to tuck it under my feet to re-warm my bones, to keep out the Autumn chill.
It was as vain as trying to hold back time. The march of time was persistent. Winter comes for all.
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