that's mrs. mediocrity to you

i sat in a chair and watched the world spin down around me

(there was less burning than you’d think)

more potential than performance

i was prisoner and you were gallow

crazy loose turning noose

i did not fight you

(as if I had a choice)

and you had no reinforcement

smoke and ash floated down to earth

in a flurry of forgotten

(burned into my retina)

i could not touch my toes to earth

you offered this stool

that rickety ladder

a steep staircase of crawls

(i never moved)

and you never carried

i sat in a chair and watched the world spin down around me

.

an ending

a beginning

.

all tied up with a beautiful bow

.

.

a photo from last autumn because i’m

a bit under the weather just now

.

and i’d rather be under this tree

.

we mark the passage of
time like it matters

your sand
my glass
our history

none of it can be claimed
owned
held onto

still
you extend
cupped hands
to a clear blue sky

trying to catch
the simple version
of this story

but sand becomes glass
and i see through you

this is the clearing
in the forest of forever

the sun warms my skin
even as it’s magnified

neither one of us
wants to burn

yet we lie here
singing songs
of ritual
and habit

until we’re buried
grain by grain

side by side

.

.

.

.

Linking up with the fabulous dVerse poets for Open Link Night – join us!