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Crone

25 Apr
time

is the crone
a flowing
like vapor

celestial
impartial

the river
burbling
below
is it fast
or slow

i don't know
but
i am caught
in
the crone's toe

the rear range
grow in age

sands tinkle
dropping slide
the hourglass

as dust gold
or just glass

the tree of
availability

her
green leaves form
genetically

fertilizing
the potentiality

is time
providence
or
the joke of
appurtenance

the guided dance
or drifting

does the crone
emanate
from the living

or does the life
come from her

she calls me
now to side

if i fiddle
ride hide
or back slide

the only thing
for darned sure

her













2.0 6/4
© Brian Peter Hodgkinson
 
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Posted by on April 25, 2022 in Poetry

 

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