In honor of my boy’s birthday today, I’m going to share the poem of mine I think Mr. Edgar Allan would be proudest of. The theme mirrors his own obsession with time & mortality. As well, I hear the rhyme scheme as Poe-esque. // I hope you enjoy.
(Even if you’re not turning 210 today.)
the clocks,, , they tick, they-Amber Renee
change their time,, , a
leap ahead or slow decline
melted in the palm of hands
& slipping through like time’s
slick sand. // when
in the dark, my heart gives way
to thoughts of hunt, but who’s the prey?
to dance is to think with arms & legs.
to breathe is to live another day.
// where ,still the clock moves ever on
with every moment a stroke but long.
tick- you’re born.
tock- you die.
the in-between’s your life’s sweet sigh.
build life on the moment’s lull.
pull the tide or watch it go. (*)
the star’s are dead, that much is true
still their light just shines on through.