On the dotted line

Taking a step back to where that time began

too far and you’ll lose sight of the thing that you look for,

sometimes it’s under your nose or it’s over and out
there are no guarantees

the kaleidoscope jigsaw that turns on in your mind
where
the grinding emotions conspire,
to love, to dismiss, to wait for,
we hope for an answer and from somewhere within,
for time to begin, for the clock to reset the regret,
to forget
to forget
or to learn
for the turn of the minute
to burn into your memory
and yet
your legs feel like your heart,
heavy,
and you don’t want the restart

that’s heavy too
or so the hippy in me says,
we all have a cross
to bear.

© 2020, John Smallshaw.