It's my last hope. The sun in its afternoon swirl. It's up there. Far, far and I still feel that There's always hope. It's fresh fruit meeting the tongue. It's playing King of the Mountain. It's the budding smell of spring flora. It grows on trees.* We pluck it, make it purchasable.
"Timepiece" is a poem from Jana Prikryl's 2016 collection "The After Party."