The Ends of Things                                            

            We fuss so much about the ends of things
            Because we know
            They’re just beginnings in disguise
            They may be over when they’re over,
            Like their origins,
            But no more or less
            Than what’s to come
            How we pride ourselves on
            Drawing lines,
            Erecting walls, or empires,
            In sand!
            Yet from a distance
            Our inspired partitions,
            Like our kisses,
            Are insensible


            Emanuel E. García, Sinking In, One Hundred Poems2013