The Stick

There is no wrong end of a stick,
both ends are useful. Nature is wiser
than that. Better to curse you own
head and feet, your spoon and fork.

At sunset, even the horizon bleeds
from each of its sides. The top of
your heart pushes out fluid, the bottom
takes it in. And then there's the matter

of heaven or hell, the sky and earth,
goodness and evil, the ego and soul.
Of this I'm sure: Life isn't a highway
but its always a trip to somewhere.

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