08-26-2013, 06:34 PM
Slivers of Time
In just half the time it takes to blink
or glance at a shooting star,
in the instant between one second and the next
my mind can wander far …
and wide in inexplicable directions,
for reasons often imperceptible or oblique
only to return in that fraction of a second
to the present (until my next retreat).
Vanishing on the notion of a restless brain’s whim
to far-off destinations in but a sliver of time,
then back before it is evident
there occurred a vacancy of my mind.
A spontaneous smile might be a tell-tale sign
that I slipped away then returned
between two words in a sentence,
before an absence was suspected or discerned.
But as age becomes a credential
that curries favor of privilege or price
I seem to linger and stretch the slivers
because the excursions engender such delight
I miss you my son, my Daddy’s Boy;
competitor who swam in lane 2.
So much so that even amidst life’s unending bustle
each day I spend many moments with you.
In just half the time it takes to blink
or glance at a shooting star,
in the instant between one second and the next
my mind can wander far …
and wide in inexplicable directions,
for reasons often imperceptible or oblique
only to return in that fraction of a second
to the present (until my next retreat).
Vanishing on the notion of a restless brain’s whim
to far-off destinations in but a sliver of time,
then back before it is evident
there occurred a vacancy of my mind.
A spontaneous smile might be a tell-tale sign
that I slipped away then returned
between two words in a sentence,
before an absence was suspected or discerned.
But as age becomes a credential
that curries favor of privilege or price
I seem to linger and stretch the slivers
because the excursions engender such delight
I miss you my son, my Daddy’s Boy;
competitor who swam in lane 2.
So much so that even amidst life’s unending bustle
each day I spend many moments with you.