Atlantis, as we all know, sinks

an apple is eaten, paradise lost.

Napoleon returns to Europe, again

riding a wave above sands where a bigger snail chases

a smaller snail. Tragedy can unfold to any size

custom fit for each being

or any group of beings

that may call themselves united when trouble sinks

in, troubles in a variety of sizes,

high murder rates, corruption, a child lost,

the good guys chase

the bad guys, everyone is watching again.

It is a bright, crisp morning again.

A good day for being

among the squirrels chasing

squirrels. Someone has cleaned all the dishes in the sink

and the world seems lost,

blinded by its own optimistic glows. Things are changing sizes.

The oldest kid gets shoes in a bigger size,

his are passed down to be used again

by siblings also lost

in the growth it means to be human beings

at this time of year. As it sinks

in it then runs out my toes, it chases

everything down the drain, chased

with water. Particles of every size

rushing down, plunk, like a pool shot sank

things sucked into a black hole, or sun or whatever center of gravity again,

accelerated on a 17 mile track to smash, and reveal whatever being

is made out of, so we can find something else to be lost

on. Worried about falling in, but at least not at a loss

for a point of reference, being chased

is at least an interesting mode of being

as opposed to dwelling about what size

is the very smallest size, or worrying again

about everything but the kitchen sink,

or sitting around, dreading the time you will be chased again.

Things of all shapes and sizes, make being

exciting, like finding what was lost, then remembering to worry about the clogged kitchen sink.