Its a funny face on a clock. Winking with crooked eyes. Little and big and so much more important than I. A thing measuring me one tick at a time. Look again at your wall.
We set for 6, settle for 7 and might hit the pavement just before 11.
No loss, its ok to waste what was behind.
so much more ahead.
endless
Stepping off the street on yellow lights. Drinking while we pretend its the last night. Sushi in diners at midnight,
in Wyoming.
"Do you have the time?"
Sure
days, weeks, marriages and children.
Suddenly, I don't.
Our hearts, our clocks.
Beat.
Beat.
Mine.
Beat.
Beat.
Time.
About the Creator
Mark R. Cieslak
Trying to tell some of the silly stories that crowd my head. Maybe you like one. If not its still cheaper than therapy.
Keep reading
More stories from Mark R. Cieslak and writers in Poets and other communities.
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Comments (1)
Very unique, Mark.