Somebody bundled
it into a clock
and slung it up high on a wall,
with numbers
like bars between us,
where there had been nothing before;
before,
my days had come open,
open and endless like sky,
but boxed on the wall
there looked no room for all
of the rest of my lifetime and I.
Jan 17, 2017
Jan 17, 2017 at 6:50 AM UTC
Somebody bundled
it into a clock
and slung it up high on a wall,
with numbers
like bars between us,
where there had been nothing before;
before,
my days had come open,
open and endless like sky,
but boxed on the wall
there looked no room for all
of the rest of my lifetime and I.
