46 Years

not as from space, warps
or waves, spinning sun
flicker-fading like old-reel film

not in measured metronome tick
bluebottle buzz, creeping clouds
sighing for summer’s slow kiss

but inchworming along
mile on wrinkled mile
head down, determined

on this relentless, arbitrary path



35 thoughts on “46 Years

      1. I don’t think I can do NaPoWriMo this year. I can barely keep up with my once a week schedule and I am heading into six really tough weeks at the office. I wish it were different. You?


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