42 Weeks

These days, I am shucking time,

running my hands over every moment, 

I feel them as they pass

and I ask each one-

are you the Now where it begins?


So far, they are silent,

I let them fall beneath me.

And because I am made to wait,

I have made contact with more time than ever before.

I have lived a month of Christmas Eves. 


We are connected, about to separate.

We are separate, about to connect.

You are not late, dear,

I just do not know the time.


Eager, hopeful, excited- I settle into patience.

Because this is not Amazon and this is not Zoom,

this is a ship crossing an ocean toward a foggy shore.

Where I wait,

a bit blind,

ready when you are, for the moment you arrive.

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