I linger in the midst of thoughts
The sun striking me no less
Than the moonlight to which my heart
Had cleaved
And I leave
Though they say I stay
But they do not traipse tripping
Through a melody of silence and
Seconds
Seasons of time that float and cluster
Like bubbles of drool
In a dribbling pool
While I ponder, pensive
I feel on my finger tips the
Tick tock
Of
A clock
A hand telling the hour
Telling me now that moments are fleeting and vague
And ripple slipping by like silky liquid pearls
Floating my vision
And
Drowning my dreams
Though now the light of night floods on
So soon shall it meet the dawn
And in betwixt am I
Lingering, languishing
In something less than the degradation
Of merely passing time.