This String of Luck

The razor’s edge of being
Right on the split
Second to second,
Try to make believe
It is all one minute.

Or random acts
Lightly tied
Together by timing
And some causality.

Forced into dreams
Of continuity
As if one foot goes before
Another,
One day before another
And a life’s path
Is laid out after birth.

Stepping,
staggering to the end
Of this incredible
string of luck