the trickling time and beat pounds out
the joy of revellers in the sunday afternoon sun
and the 2/4 time of domesticated anxiety growing in my ribcage
if you stay out of the pool too long (and it's a pool not an ocean), you forget how to swim
or think you've forgetten, realizing once you've swallowed a few cups of water
that arms and feet can indeed be coordinated
as with the mind and the heart
and like so many things
momentary elation is just that
ceasing what might be so terrifyingly believable
rendering weak the strong
and strengthening what previously was only seen as weak
there are too many threads here to sew
my fingers are nimble
my eyes capable of seeing
deep reds and oranges, velvety blues and lush greens
soft yellows and blue dawns laced with gold.
changes so sudden are not so abruptly
fitting, fit in time with chronological instances
lest i seek.
here. without your help, and my willful blindness.