tick tock

there are times when the
sun seems to hide
the burning light and the air
washes over like a brand new year
everything hurts and there
are a great many scars
this river of time has broken
the roots of this rock apart
grinning as i speak through blazing ache
just pulling in air is a gift
and the mix of clock and actions
grip the afternoon like a arm wrestling contest
helping each connection weld
these interactions to the frame of
my rusted chassis and churning over the direction
of the final taste that
allows a calm sunset to
wink as the energy is
gone untill
that fire comes back with a vengance


About jaybeasley2

a writer, a painter, a poet, a wordsmith
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