42 Weeks

These days, I am shucking time

I run my hands against every moment. 

I feel them as they pass

and 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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