the stars, the sea, and sleep.

Monday, January 17, 2011

Tunnel Vision

I lied and said it was my last one,
But I stole from a sick baby and an old man
At his request, and I did my best to improvise.
I followed family traditions
Keeping a safe distance behind the clock,
But sometimes it seemed we were so far
That it just stopped moving all together,
And then I could remember.
Openers are never closers
When we can still call it hinged.
This sunlight binge makes melatonin well
And we're coming up to older bridges now,
Concrete cracked and charred that never caught on fire.
Well enough, I couldn't hold it for you.
Clear the catch, whatever caught on when it tried,
Forget the things we kept in fear to the side.
The roof peeled off when the deepened shutter opened,
Overcautious of the light, for which it’s always hoping.

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