The Hollowness of Time

source

Time stole in

lighthanded as a pickpocket

Took her youth

quick as a gasp

Passing by the glass, she glimpsed 

fissures at the fault lines of her surface

saw her structure sinking

She hadn’t noticed

this slow decay of her self

until the instant it caught her 
off guard

She wondered

whether Venetians perceived their city sinking

little by little or

Would they find themselves one day

knee deep in water and ask

“When did this happen?”

She once had been called a rock

Sturdy, stable, strong

and grew to embrace this image

But even rocks erode over time

crumbling to gravel

then dust

What would she be

if she fractured?

She imagined herself a geode

delicate, crystalline beauty at her core

But she suspected
that under the exterior

She was only hollow.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Free Verse, My Love In Her Wild Magnificence

The Wall

image source

We take our assigned positions

They make a wall

We march through

They shout at us

We walk silently, stoically

Protecting our charges

Getting them safely to the other side

Almost like a game of Red Rover

But we're not children

And no one is laughing

Each side has its uniforms

They-  crosses, placards, leaflets

We-  orange vests

And the women we battle over-

Lost, stunned, exhausted stares

Realizing they've just stepped into

A war zone

There's even a priest

Who dares cross to our side

Offering up hot coffee on an icy winter morning

My first instinct, to reject his offer

But the coffee's warm and the air is cold

I thank him for his kindness

And we share a moment, shivering together and drink

Then retreat

To our positions

submitted for Poetry Potluck, Week 43, Life in Free Verse, at Jingle Poetry

$1.99

image courtesy of Magpie Tales

Welcome to the estate sale!

Come on in and look around

See anything you like?

Oh yes, it's all yours, isn't it?

Or rather, it was.

Now it's fodder 

For the Saturday morning junk hunters.

Table and chairs--$100

Floor lamp--$25

Potted plant--$2.50

Like you, it's not alive.

The sofa with its arm covers

Barely even used

The cut glass chandelier

Still casts a harsh glare

Also like you

But it's never felt so warm here

Now that you're cold.

And look! Here's your photo!

In a lovely gilded frame

Million dollar smile?

Yours, $1.99.

submitted for Magpie Tales 70