Time

Time

Early in the morning on a winter’s day at sunrise
My eyes are closed to the world around me..
My mind has become tragic literature-

The sun rests low behind the mountains,
The grass is greener than polished emerald
Reflecting illumination so frighteningly bright.
I am stunningly terrified as echoed within the dewdrops-

My tears hit the ground in staccato rhythm.
Life has been a catastrophic musical -
A wall clock only I can see belittles me
As I weep a multitude of tears-

My time is running out and the cold wind blows
The leaves upon the trees surrounding-
Hell exists on this earth- terror, and dismay-
On the brink of disaster,
I can see my reflection in a nearby creek
As I cry out in fear-

If I were an adventuresome, and vibrant rare bird
I would spread my wings and fly
To my bastion beyond a multitude of cirrus clouds
That decorate the skies.

The sun shows its face above the mountaintops
While trees shiver in the wind-

I see the hands upon that wall clock spiraling out of control..
I can still see the sun falling behind the mountains when dusk sets in
Leaving me in the darkness-

The full moon wanes and the stars are coming out-
I spread my flamboyant wings and soar into the night.

Claudia Krizay