Eden time

They spent every day,
blissfully ignorant, in
amorous delay.


Temp time

Will I be alive
when the twelve-headed jailer
announces it’s five?


In a parched time

Clouds make this appeal:
the more you wait, the wetter
the water will feel.


Intermission time

Guilty admission:
this plunge from art to life’s a
painful transition.


Sleep time

Quick nap—but it seemed
an ocean of joys, a sea
of griefs that I dreamed.


Reunion time

Days passed like drugged snails.
I met you at the station,
laughed at their faint trails.


Just give it time

Though I frankly feel
better, there’s nothing sadder
than starting to heal.


Retronym time

Cheering: it was done.
But soon the Great War would be
renamed World War One.


Lately I haven’t had the easiest time

has me asking clouds if they
know where my ex is.


The Marschallin returns for the third and final time

Ja, ja, so it goes:
I’ve got memories, but she’s
got the silver rose.


Ahab time

Though I do not thrive,
I confess I’ve never felt
so purely alive.


You get lucky from time to time

Once, in a mad rush,
I painted a blizzard that
blew away my brush.

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This article originally appeared in The New Criterion, Volume 29 Number 3, on page 28
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