Time’s Petticoat

Darted apart
from naked trees
and angsty squirrels

Rushed towards
chortling chimneys,
charging between
a chorus of icicles
clinging onto sils and gutters, alike.

I dove between snowflakes,
that dragged icy winds
by their skirts
which wove within
withering icicles and
waking them from their slumber.

I rose above thorny steps,
dipping down strep chasms
and flying amongst the gray and fluffy clouds

I’ll soon reach my precipice
bringing me back to peak

Life is an oxymoron.
We’re here to sow seeds,
and slip away after not too long.

I often wander this space,
at 3 A.M.
alone and without aid.

Somehow I have reached this point,
some far off summit in my mind.
It holds no great secret,
no operative plan.

I’m just here
sailing above snowy grounds.
I know I can’t keep waiting.
Time tucks no patience
in his petticoat.

Dawning on me,
it’s dawning on me.
The sunlight brightens my pale cheeks.
Screeching alarms,
shriek in my ears.

I’m tumbling down the mountain face,
a rolling ball of hope and snow.
I’m brought back to the present,
dancing the dance of stating, “I don’t know.”

Advertisement