(spratmackrel, CC BY-SA 2.0, via flickr)
Have you ever noticed that things can change, quickly, before you are ready for the results of those changes? Today I am thinking about time, adjustments, and poetry.
Here is a bundle to share:
The Next Day
You told me to love today,
And now today is past and
Tomorrow falls at my feet like a wet dog -
Ready to shake itself dry
But only at the expense of those who still stand nearby.
You are no longer here,
Like a shadow that breaks away,
With you doing the breaking
And me standing with stale bread -
Wondering when the wishbone shows up for the meal.
It’s tomorrow, you know,
(Do you know?)
And my mind lays in the past
Without the comfort of a pillow
Without your musky scent in the air of my bedroom.
Take me back to the day you decided that
I would not be your tomorrow,
And warn me of the changes to come -
I promise I will clean up after myself
If only I know which moment you will step
And that your step will be without me.
©2013 Christy Birmingham
Do you know what will be your tomorrow?
This is christyb playing around with concepts of time.