Memorizing times and dates,
trying to get a jump on fate.
Good things come
to those who wait,
but that just isn't me.

The moon, a dagger, hangs over all.
I watch to make sure it won't fall and
walk away, my shadow tall
to see that it's still hanging.

In anxious sleep, symbols of blood
haunt my dreams, the coming flood
when I'll be left lost in the mud
and revising what I'd thought I'd known.