Charles Bukowski

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 branch
 
that space
there
before they get to us
ensures
that
when they do
they won’t
get it all
 
ever.
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