The Trouble with Time

I have trouble
with time.
It is constantly sneaking
away from me,
hiding in the folds of a book,
under a cup of coffee
or behind a daydream

Like a cat,
it stays just out of reach
until I turn my back.
Then it rubs against my legs
nearly tripping me up

Particles, sprinkled on the path,
crunch underfoot
Waves, crash into me
submerge me,
knocking me down

I cannot seem to manage
this time;
so forgive me
if I keep you waiting

NaPoWriMo – #23

What is the gold standard of time?
And how do we tell time
by the sun and the stars
when the ever-constant sun
opens and closes the star gate
at different “times”
not just each day,
but each year
on the same day?
(Is that why we don’t
wear sun dials on our wrists?)
Just what is this thing we measure
and divide into smaller and smaller bits?
Who enforces this abstraction?
And what arrogance enables us,
mere specks in the cosmos,
to believe we are keeping time
not just for Greenwich
but for the entire Universe?

I think this poem probably reflects my ignorance of science more than anything, but it originated when I was looking up times of sunset. And of course, the time of sunset changes with daylight growing shorter and longer with the seasons, but didn’t realize that also, sunset is at a different time on the same day of different years. Of course it is, because with leap year the same day isn’t even the same each year. That was poorly said, but hopefully you know what I mean. Then I looked up the time standard and discovered it’s no longer called Greenwich Mean, but Coordinated Universal Time. So, that’s probably more than you ever wanted to know – but I hope it wasn’t a waste of your time!

NaPoWriMo #12

I am no physicist
but I know about time
I know how it changes
how it bends
and folds
I know it’s not a constant
but races, then
stops and
pools at one’s feet
then scampers ahead
I know how it can deceive

What I don’t know
about time is
how to spend
it wisely

NaPoWriMo #5

4-5-19

Bertie
is three gems
each one more precious
than the last
Spilled out of
a jeweler’s envelope
to be examined
Past Bertie is bright with surface sparkle
one might even call her gaudy
in an uncharitable moment.
Future Bertie is honed
concentrated to
a single, pure
searing
point
.
Present Bertie
has been chiseled
tumbled
polished and worn
to a clear bright
fire, yet
with substance
comfortable resting
in the palm of one’s hand

This comes from a dream I had last night. My Aunt Kathryn was talking about Bertie, and I wondered if she was a friend or distant relative or even a care-giver. (Aunt Kathryn is 88.) Then she pulled out a small envelope and shook out three largish diamonds, which were somehow the “Bertie” she was talking about.

Is the period on a line by itself too gimmicky? What do you think?

Autumnal Equinox – FF55

IMG_9515

Light and shadows dance
through the ages
flashing, winking, spinning

And now the time begins
when shadows enfold the light
when we turn
to darker thoughts
with shorter days
and colder nights
when blossoms are spent
and fruits have ripened

The growing season is over
prepare your garden
prepare your soul
winter is on the way

This is for Joy, who has resurrected FF55 at Verse Escape.  Go there and see what it’s all about.  (Photo is by me.)

Mid-Night

There is a time
closer to night than morning
when parties fall
into ruin
and the moon wearies

There is a time
when dreams are forgotten
and shades
lose their way 

There is a time
when the clock
gives up its hands
and the hours pool
on the ground
running to regret

This is my time

This is for my friend Joy’s FF55 revival at Verse Escape, even though it’s not Friday, and if you’re counting, there aren’t 55 words.