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Down the last roads of time,
along the narrowest paths of
the universe, I travelled, as once I
climbed in the Adirondacks, grabbing
at rocks, clutching roots, whatever
I could hold, and would hold me,
pulling my way up mountains in
triumph, only to find at the top
the trail leading down, so much
like life, but worth it, because
the cosmos expected this much,
the very best efforts of this bit
of dust, this accident of history,
this genetic gamble, these
carbon atoms, this flawed
diamond, this me.
March 25, 2005