It’s that day when the sun comes out
and melts the skiff of snow into muddy
puddles and the sky is that soft shade
of blue and you can’t remember
whether it’s late fall or
early spring.
That’s when you catch a fleeting glimpse
of why calendars are such
stupid things.
#117
Calendars are tricky things
they habitually pull the wings
off our days and stuff them in
a nasty little cage.
Cages stacked four or five high
all cramped and crowded, side by side
assigned a number and divided
into different pages.
We cross them out and tick them off,
place cryptic notes within the blocks,
And watch them like slow moving clocks
where minutes move like hours
Admiring their reliability
we cede to them responsibility
to direct our brave futility
with their pedantic powers.
But calendars are simple drones
They have no power of their own
Even if they’re carved in stone
By enterprising Mayans.
So make your plans and don’t loose sleep
Just count, and do not join, the sheep
time is precious, talk is cheap,
tomorrow will be fine.
#361
I hereby revoke
time’s untimely yoke
and assert that time travel
is mine to invoke.
If clocks can be set
back or forward, I bet
I could set a calendar
without much regret.
And the time that I choose
would be mine to reuse
or rethink, or relive,
to gain or to lose.
A million years will go by
past the day that I die
and I’ll meet myself travelling
and ask for the time.
#201
My CD "New Traditions" is available for listening or digital download
My CD "Breathe" is available to listen to or for digital download
Linda Studley is a writer, songwriter, independent recording artist, and sometime graphic artist living in Northern BC, Canada
Linda Studley 