Time
Where does it go?
Can anyone tell me
Does anyone know?
We only hold so much
When will it run out?
I don’t have enough
Of that I have no doubt
The gentle breeze blows
Trying to reassure
But there’s something not right
Of that I am quite sure
I don’t have enough time
I know I never will
Time is such a burden
Until the day at last we’re still
© 2023 Michelle Cook
Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/girl-hands-flower-people-model-4169891/
Damp and decaying like timeworn leather, the
wind stirs each fossilized apparition.
Holding fast against the sultry winds of
time; clinging, dependent, on limp limbs. These
creaky extremities reach for silhouetted faces,
haunting shadows with limited life. And in
withered strain feeble fists persevere, while the
sufferings of the season wilt within the crowd.
Littering the pavement like languorous petals,
inky remembrances of rosier days pass on.
In the bleakness of the night with a
shudder and a sigh, wasting away in the wet
rot of decomposing rainbows. Now black
and spoiled against the barren bough.
© 2023 Michelle Cook
*Golden Shovel Poetry Writing Exercise
The only rule for this type of poem is that each word of your source poem must appear as the last word of each line in your poem—and they should be in the order that they appear in the original. Your poem will contain as many lines as your source poem has words.
Here’s the poem I chose to use. (So if you read down my poem, the end of each line uses all these words in order.)
In the Station of the Metro
The apparition of these faces in the crowd:
Petals on a wet, black bough.
by Ezra Pound
Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/branches-tree-black-and-white-rain-4621320/
It all began
on wrinkle road
a story so profound
it must be told
But who am I
to expose the truth
and knowing the world
they’ll just want proof
So back n forth I go
holding my tongue
with sweaty hands
ready to be wrung
Juicy details
begging to burst
but I’m just me
and my lips are pursed
Looking around
no soul to tell
helps quiet my mind
and the images quell
So I’ll save my story
for another day
too good to tell
anyway
© 2023 Michelle Cook
Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/wrinkled-old-faded-paper-past-470799/
*On my recent adventure to visit my family, I encountered a road named Wrinkle Rd. I was driving about in the middle of nowhere when I saw the road, and the name just sort of stuck with me for the rest of the day. So after much deliberation, I finally decided to challenge myself to write about it. But too many thoughts were racing through my head as I pondered such a place, and in the end, it seemed like a place of unlimited possibilities. So I leave it up to you, dear reader, to decide what profound things may happen on Wrinkle Rd. Maybe you can even write your own story or poem about what you think goes on there. ~M xo
You find me in
the busy of day;
no matter how
you find a way.
A brief moment
to send a kiss,
it’s the kind of thing
you never miss.
Every opportunity
you seek me out
and oh, the love
I feel throughout.
Even now,
while you’re asleep,
I feel your love
in dreams so deep.
Connected by
a force unknown;
you’ve become
my one true home.
© 2023 Michelle Cook
Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/people-couple-man-woman-kiss-hug-2603522/
Do you ever wonder why things
can’t be as they were
Time always changes things
and causes such a stir
People eventually change
and that’s because everyone grows
still I miss the old ways
and change I do oppose
I miss when my kids were little
the times of simple bliss
now the world has gotten so hectic
everything’s amiss.
I struggle with the here and now
and the moments way back then
still knowing I’d never want to do
all those years again
As great as they really were
life was hard then too
I guess I need to remember that
whenever I’m feeling blue
One never really thinks
about the day their children will leave
and it’s sad when they forget you
It’s something you forever grieve
I know my very own parents
probably feel the exact same way
but the distance makes it harder
and so we drift away.
And friends are difficult to follow
everyone’s here and there
but there’s only one of me
though I’d love to be everywhere
And now that I am older
I find myself learning to be still
sinking into the background
not looking for a thrill
Still I am very happy
and maybe more content than most
but very humbly I say that
for I’d never want to boast
I do enjoy my life though
and yet some days are still so sad
but they’re few and far between
and for that I’m really glad
And today I’m just reflecting
missing those who’ve gone afar
and I think I’ve come to accept
I have to leave them where they are
© 2023 Michelle Cook
Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/young-woman-meadow-lie-relax-girl-2194038/
Her Writing Haven 