It's Ours

There is always that space there

just before they get to us.

That space

That fine relaxer

The breather

while say

flopping on a bed thinking of nothing

or say

pouring a glass of water from the spigot

while entranced by nothing

That gentle pure space

it's worth centuries of existence

say

Just to scratch your neck

while looking out the window 

at a bare branche.

That space there

before they get to us

ensures that 

when they do, they won't get it all

ever.

Charles Bukowski

Scene from the play "Bien-etre"

by Claude Gauvreau, 1947