A little scribble inspired by the style of the INCREDIBLE poet Donald Hall. His poems are sheer joy to read - if you can, check him out!
Hands sprung ahead as decreed—
gears of life’s seconds twist and whine of misuse.
Time is not a fixed thing
but we think it is and I look at the time sprung ahead and I’m so tired
of seconds and second-hands and I wish I had a third hand
to make playing the piano easier. But as with time, I had to learn
to do without.