Perfect Tense
In our house,
we have no verb
for past;
everything is current,
continuous,
today.
Yesterdays
bleed sticky bright,
beat in our ears
with the rush rush rush
of Now.
Nothing goes away;
it stays,
and we cradle
each minute
tender as an infant
in our DNA.
In our house we have clocks that stopped at different points of the past but I'll be danged if I can remember what was happening that made them quit.
ReplyDeletei like your posts,please write more
ReplyDeleteeven this poem write a little more to it
I wish I could be so on cold Sunday evenings too
ReplyDeleteGreat grasp of the now...
"yesterdays bleed sticky bright" is such a vivid image! I wish we were in the NOW here, but before we know it, it becomes THEN!
ReplyDeleteBut equally important: do you have a tense for the future?
ReplyDelete