On the cusp

On The Cusp of Time from “Keats Walks Downstairs — New Poems”

a work in progress

Slow As Molasses Press

On The Cusp Of Time

Would I could write here

on the cusp of time

where winds of nothingness blow in

from an invisible beyond

I’d tell you secrets only children know

and wash your face with my perfumed rag

I found it lying here all disarrayed

as if thrown carelessly by someone

lost in flight

I’m losing it

I thought I had it almost right

I would have told you of the edge that’s here

and how the entire drop descends

to someplace so far lost to us

that all it says is hey look then it laughs

and when the next wind drifting comes

It ends up just a dream

I’d tell you secrets

But you would not care

You know that time is all the gold you have

and even if there is no solace there

you’d rather have the freedom to protect it

than to share

I am alone here

Happily ensconced

with one leg hanging languidly

the other tucked up under me

Not knowing is a blessing

I need never speak another word

Look there out there another universe

I’m sure of it

Soon it will come blowing in

and bowl me over

like a mint leaf

or a piece of light

or anything at all that I might find

I wish sometimes

another voice would resonate

and tell me I am really where I am

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