Time has gone by, curling up like a cat

 

Time has gone by, curling up like a cat bundling,

against that cold music-less time,

between the afternoon and the evening.

Here on these streets, it is now too late for those five or six years of bliss I imagined,
But not too late for three or maybe two
Yes those four were wasted. It doesn’t matter, time stands still anyway-

Here, a year or even less would seem like an eternity.
These are the good years, the ones never expected that you live for
They are taken, not given,

(carved), Like some pleasure crafted from the stone of neediness. Is it needy to want air?

You have to cut at it with something hard, not with expectation,

But harder-

like truth you’ve never known.
They’re not given, but they might be found
A rare (rose) flower you pluck from a forbidden garden.

And doesn’t it feel right?
I should think it might last for a year, at least to the next winter.

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s