Tag: time

  • TIME

    TIME


    Florida seasons baffle me.
    Dead magnolia leaves litter the sidewalk
    like tan leather mittens
    while white patches of pusley
    mimic snow on the grass.
    Blue violet Speedwell
    hides in the lawn like tiny pansies.
    The neighbor's Mimosa tree blossoms.
    It's odd to my northern mind
    to see flowers in November.
    Here in the subtropics,
    I am perpetually lost in time.

  • WAITING 1963

    WAITING 1963

    Each night I wait.
    I watch out the window. 
    I count cars
    that appear on the road. 
    See their headlights grow
    then dwindle as they
    continue past on 
    two lanes heading north.
    
    “If I count ten cars, he’ll come.”
    “If I count twenty…”
    I hope we will drive to the light
    and talk and laugh 
    but he may not appear.
    I sit at the window until 
    late, the night gone.
    Disappointment’s my reward.
    
    All evening 
    I'm held hostage to hope.
    My job – suspense, submission.
    His – choice and power.
    
    
    
  • GRANDDAUGHTER

    GRANDDAUGHTER

    She touches me
    as if I'm rock or tree
    immune to time
    and gravity, 
    impervious to woe.
    The twenty years
    we’ve left
    (with luck and grace)
    invisible to her.
     
    In her constant now
    our cardinal sings
    the mac ‘n cheese is hot.
    We walk the stones in her backyard
    our sacred spot.
    She will have time enough
    to seek me
    in rocks and trees
    when I’m gone.
    
    Today she leans
    against my jeans 
    and turns me
    briefly immortal.