The Other Day
by Michael Burkard
1
The other day my wristwatch
came apart – not the time
but the band, not the beginning
but the end. The sun did not
shine, but it had not shown
itself for a handful of days.
Night came on early, but it is
that part of the year, at least
here, where night does that.
One friend says
“you can take my word
for the sun,”
misunderstood this as:
some sentences are like
sun and the moon,
some moon or sun,
some night only but
near night or far
night – consolation
in either case.
2
Wish friend had said
“take my friendship
for the sun”
Am missing the sun – but the
orbit or a human closeness
over time begins to resemble
the misshapen stand of a watchband,
or the case of moonlight
held only in the hands of
illusion / accompaniment -
the moon is moving a few
feet (or is it inches)
away from the earth every
year – whether “it” collided
with us (thus forming)
is beside the point. The
moon moves away like
our lives from ourselves.

“Untitled” by Michael Burkard


{ 1 comment… read it below or add one }
Michael, Love this poem –The Other Day– its play with time and space.