Into The Ago Bin
Into the ago bin I toss my past–
How long was it since…? When did that happen…?
And does the sequence of things matter?
Like an accordion, time shrinks and expands
To fit the feeling of the memory.
Logic has little to do with anything.
I took the trash out yesterday? Or was that last week?
Perhaps tomorrow is trash day.
Time melts as sparkling icicles in the sunshine of happiness
Or solidifies with the icy wind of grief, the chill of regret.
I cannot hold time in my hand or keep it in a jar.
I can only watch it pour itself through me.
Such a short time before this I was small,
Swinging on the rope swing that hung from the big elm.
Once my young children clustered around me
Now their children are older than mine were then.
My mirror shows me my familiar smile.
Does it reflect a wiser me?
Today my clock strikes the hour.
Tomorrow has not yet struck,
Yet it will toll the same hours.
The present moment strikes over and over.