Time

There are good days
and there are bad days
There are times you can feel the wind
gently breathing on every sun-drenched inch
long after the moon sets
There are times you drag yourelf from bed
to vomit and collapse again
when you’re never hungry
and are afraid to eat when you are
There are times you can hide in simplicity
in the motion of rubbing polish into a boot
in the rhythm of the hammer’s rise and fall
in the lake and the stars alone
or anywhere with the right person
There are times when images
a raven dropping a feather
tear through your mind
lighting coiling around an arm
with the a scream
blood drops precision
of melting a candles scalpel smoke
as a wolf howls at the moon
There’s an hourglass slowly burying me with sand
as the clocks all melt and the ants carry them away
Take life with a grain of sand
cast away the bad
wrap it in a poem, entomb it in art
and burn the ashes
That when a dove
sheds a feather over your grave
it’ll be on a mound of tiny
beautiful
moments