5:30 a.m.
The day crawls,
then gallops and is gone.
4:30 p.m.
~*~
4.12.2020
Adopted Street Pot
I cleared the pine branch covering.
How I wish the sidewalk could be scrubbed and cleaned,
but not my building.
12:30 a.m.
Time Passes
The day crawls,
then gallops and is gone.
4:30 p.m.
~*~
4.12.2020
Adopted Street Pot
I cleared the pine branch covering.
How I wish the sidewalk could be scrubbed and cleaned,
but not my building.
12:30 a.m.
Time Passes
by Joy Ladin
Time too is afraid of passing, is riddled with holes
through which time feels itself leaking.
Time sweats in the middle of the night
when all the other dimensions are sleeping.
Time has lost every picture of itself as a child.
Now time is old, leathery and slow.
Can’t sneak up on anyone anymore,
Can’t hide in the grass, can’t run, can’t catch.
Can’t figure out how not to trample
what it means to bless.
5 p.m.
My plan to plant the tulips outside reconsidered.
"As the world’s major religions celebrate significant festivals – Easter, Passover, Ramadan and Vaisakhi – in isolation, the test of faith is set to intensify":
https://www.theguardian.com/world/2020/apr/12/easter-passover-ramadan-festivals-test-the-faithfuls-resolve-over-lockdown
~*~
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