Holding it in
Life
A series
Of pregnant
Pauses
All waiting
For the next
Big moment
To exhale
-
The Volume of Silence
We speak
Yet silence echoes eternally
drawkcaB
Conversations
Fill volumes that go for decades
But say
Nothing
It’s like everything
We say
Is scrawled on fragile parchment
In a language neither of us
Reads
-
The End of Daydreams
You’re too late!
The time for play is over.
Gone are the bats and gloves.
Away are the ice skates and hockey sticks,
Football is a memory now faded.
The sunshine has been put away.
You’ll find it in the closet,
above the box of weekends,
next to the bucket rainbows.
Your playmates have disappeared,
locked in their dungeons.
You stroll down the deserted avenues
playing kick-the-can
with your hands in your pockets.
Then, with your army of one,
you capture your own flag.
Life
A series
Of pregnant
Pauses
All waiting
For the next
Big moment
To exhale
-
The Volume of Silence
We speak
Yet silence echoes eternally
drawkcaB
Conversations
Fill volumes that go for decades
But say
Nothing
It’s like everything
We say
Is scrawled on fragile parchment
In a language neither of us
Reads
-
The End of Daydreams
You’re too late!
The time for play is over.
Gone are the bats and gloves.
Away are the ice skates and hockey sticks,
Football is a memory now faded.
The sunshine has been put away.
You’ll find it in the closet,
above the box of weekends,
next to the bucket rainbows.
Your playmates have disappeared,
locked in their dungeons.
You stroll down the deserted avenues
playing kick-the-can
with your hands in your pockets.
Then, with your army of one,
you capture your own flag.
