Sliver of Time

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Acorns are gone,

swept away.

People in graves

marked for the 1800s

had no idea

what the 21st century

would be like.

And I’ll never see

the 23rd or 89th

or anything on the horizon.

But the sky

is still trembling blue,

exasperatingly blue

and trees line the roads

like they very well might have

even in that time.

 

This doesn’t feel

like an 1800s cemetery.

It’s carved

out of the city

and could remain

a secret source

of boiling over blue skies

and mating butterflies,

masking and elongating time.

I’m here

for only

the faintest

sliver of time,

while thoughts and ideas

and comforting blue skies

traverse the eons.

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Voice Recording

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