In which we visit the office (III)

Written on a particularly cheery day at a desk…
There comes a Moment,
Hurtling out of the morass of meaningless days.
Ululating its discontent, the Moment snaps at heels,
Ripping at sinews and seams until the morass
Stills. There, entwined in the purr of the Moment, it
Dawns on you that the sludge of your life is slithering away,
Another day. Another
Year. Gone.
Beautiful, and jarring because of that beauty.
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