Time

This time, time is
Hanging over and around us
Pushing apart to the eventual
Of together

Poking and taunting this time
Time is
Feeding to the fear of uncertain
Laughing in the face of decision
Picking up the past cruelties of its faults
To hurl back again

So certain of what was going to be
Until the shifting wind
Steered into the haze
Of time

Tuesday

You have become that place
Where the pen is poised
Waiting
To transcribe my thoughts

I open the page,
Begin that glimmer
That never sprouts to life
Floundering
Slipping

What things I can't quite say
To speak with uncertainty
Of where in this moment
I find myself
When the traces of flighted half-sentences
I could share,
Things I try to collect and sort
Anything else seems petty
But these are those still left hanging
Unspoken

So finally,
I say the nothing only you will understand
The silence of nothing
Wishing I could find you words