Time Capsule
As I wake up in my loft
I ask myself what’s in a day.
Is it the woman who left me behind
or the one I’ve yet to meet?
My ears ring and I feel
I’m living for the next poem
and the song I sang last night
lingers. It always comes back to me.
Someone downstairs is on the phone
talking about wars in other lands
and dirty dishes he left last night
filling the kitchen sink linger.
A rabbit waits in the back yard
until I take a walk to my car
to take a drive by the river.
The sun hides behind a veil of clouds.
The river has carved its way
long before I was born, and after
I was a twinkle in his eyes
he would say with affection.
Of the river are born
many songs and poems
and together they live
well beyond their time.
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