An unusual move for me: I wrote this poem this afternoon, then read it at an open mic three hours later…

I heard rattling and footsteps outside
a man with a bicycle walked past the window
the surface of the lake rippled next to the dock

The clock on the wall stood at 11:14
the expressionless monkey face stared at me from behind the hands
behind me, another clock steadily ticked the seconds by

Messages on the wall spoke to people no longer here
while I wrote this message to people not yet present
with each line, pondering what I might say next

Now the room is quiet, and the light outside is fading
I don’t mind having the space to reflect
The day will be gone soon enough; this will remain

(11 February 2015)