Keeper of Keys

Old
Habitual, rote faithfulness
Adherent to rotational, gravitational patterns
Latchkey Love
Learned avoidance, practiced to perfection
Like clockwork, the thrill won’t work
Time, you are becoming
Old

Super, and Care-Full With Your Pen, Mannerisms, and Metaphor

Sonny, (I can call you that because I’ve grey and am much older than you)
You don’t look like a man who’dve (proper grammar? I surely don’t care)
Said what you said (but you said it, and it stole my heart)
In Chapter 25 (chapter twenty-five., to be precise)
Or even a man who’dve been able to “focus” this long (though you lay claim to seeing its virtue, so I’ll believe you)
Given the amount of time (I’ve spent more than my fair share of it and secretly believe it’s ubiquitous)
And number of exhalations I know (I know) it took away
From your habitual daydreaming (I’ve a penchant for it, too)
I could (sadly, I will) continue sharing unrequited love-jabs here
But it’s late and the (glorious, but damned) mosquitoes have made their entrance
So I laugh (always — most often at myself), and tuck your bookmark (thanks) in my bra strap (ha) instead of your book (your book, bravo) and go inside for the night (and, how dare you quote Whitman?!)
Goodnight (goodnight)

Mess

Do you think back on which days were warm
It was eternally morning
No clock messing with you
11:11am, all the time
Arms overhead
Clear head
Carefree

What’s with all the ice, now, too early to the party
All the shutdowns
All roads some surprise mess
5:55pm, and always grey
Sunrise, where are you
Please rise
Sun

Pulsar Day

What if I befriended time
Then took its outstretched hand

Separation was no more
Despite life’s shifting sand

Daytime, nighttime were as one
Without the fear of loss

Silver seconds, yearnless years
And age no bridge to cross

I beckon thee to join with me
In unrelenting drive

To put away some thought of death
To embrace what’s alive

Each minute is a golden hour
Each breath a pulsar day

When time gives us its outstretched hand
We must not look away

X Y Zenith

Just this one more line
Just this one more time
But I would have drowned

If you’d meant to change
If it were the day
Strength you should have found

Boundaries are most real
Boundaries helped me heal
Cross none sacred ground

Past Time: Her Haiku

Fuck this very zoo
Where captivity drives you
To regret your eyes

*****************

Consecrated Girl
Born for a time such as this
You have been called up

*****************

Equal in this pen
Harken back now to the days
‘fore you suffered snakes

Original Inspiration Credit:
“The determination of thy will shall be yielded to thy husband, and he shall rule over thee.”
– Genesis 3:16
“[F]or if you remain silent at this time…you and your family will perish…who knows but that you have come to your royal position for such a time as this?”
– Esther 4:14

Just

Remind me to love, Lord
One ear up to all the world

One myopic eye
Just one
To all that ails me

Give me You
A curiosity-cocked mind
To learn just what is their need

Light to shine, that all feel seen
Many comforts and time to share

Just Like Yesterday

Were I to wear cowgirl boots on New Year’s Eve’
Would they walk me to your shine?

Were you to spin 70’s tunes on your record player
Would your dancin’ feet meet mine?

What did you wish for on your birthday without me
A shared path for us to find?

What I begged of the Ghost of Christmas Past
A machine to turn back time….