Posts Tagged ‘time’

Sonnet MMXII, 6.1 (Untitled)

In SONNETS on June 1, 2012 at 5:30 AM

Allay this, Time; at long last, grant rest here?

Thou keep’st a fair wager, well-played and won;

So, keep more fair in leaving each lost year,

By Thee, thus free from me; done, as is done.

Wretchèd I plea for my gamble and waste.

These are to Thee as pebbles for skipping;

Forever gone. To Thy sea—Pure, still chaste!

They are to me as precious pearls, weeping.

Alas, I see Time’s purpose: Retrospect.

Alack, for Youth and inexperience;

Assuage, ephemeral years, due respect;

Anoint, Thy pebbles here; mark, their conscience.

For Time doth win its years: harsh, just and fair;

Lest all years hence be lost to more despair.

Written for you at 03:30 EDT, 01-June-2012, by your Gidgie.

Copyright 2012, by KHC, All Rights Reserved.

Written On The New York City Subway

In Excerpts of Prose, FOR YOUR CONSIDERSTION, poetry, Short Fiction on July 3, 2011 at 12:40 PM

The F Train runs the course of Manhattan into Brooklyn Heights.

Late one evening, on a Wednesday, she steps onto the south bound train to go home. She takes a window seat, alone at the end of the subway car. Biting her lower lip, she opens a book and begins reading. But not for long.

Distracted, she closes it and removes a pen from her purse. Using the beige paper bookmark, she begins to write.

I picked it up long after the train crossed into Brooklyn. It read:

Did you ever consider that maybe what we’ve got isn’t so bad?

Maybe what we have is more than what we’ve had.

And somehow we manage to sleep at night.

(The free flow of thought is like a magnet catching dust. And sense has a lock that’s covered over with a thin layer flaking red rust. My mind is somewhere behind.)

But what I have is so much more than what I have had.

We move,

In and out and up and down, back and forth, underneath some immovable force.

And every once in a while, we pause and stop

Step back

And realize what we’ve got:

A piece of ourselves at peace

I flipped the book mark over and the small, crips letters filled that back as well. I kept reading:

Even though it will never be enough.

Here I am

And holding to who I am

I humbly ask you

Who you are and what made you think

We could take it this far —


Without you I would not be me

Nor you without me, would not be you.

But I humbly ask

IF we have taken this too far

IF in this pause

I must bid you farewell

Remembering this, alone,

Until I am old and undone.

Because what we have is more than what I’ve had

To lose it unexpectedly would be horrorific.

Leave me mad.

The woman on the subway became real.

I did not even know her name.

I paused.

Copyright 2009-2011, by Kimberly Cox, All Rights Reserved

Revision from November 1, 2009

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