doing time
They say time heals all wounds. Let it be so.
doing time
©2020 punkie
doing time
the rhythmic tick tock
of the antique clock
tortures & tears me apart:
it tracks empty time without prospect
of heavy footsteps on the deck
hot breath on my neck
passion unchecked
or hearts in a wreck
the rhythmic tick tock
of the antique clock
heals & gives me hope:
it brings closer some day
when the depth & breadth
of the hole in my chest will
contract, compact & contain the
pain you planted there when you left
© 2020 Susan Macaulay. I invite you to share my poetry and posts widely, but please do not reprint, reblog or copy and paste them in their entirety without my permission. Thank you.
