It's Ours
-by Charles Bukowski

there is always that space there
just before they get 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 us
ensures
that
when they do
they won't
get it all

ever.