The Search Is On

Come let me write for you
As I watch a Pro Bono lecture
Take place right up front
While I sit right behind;

Many heads and ponytails
Many faces and spectacles
Many sleeping and many typing
All in the law fac auditorium;

Yet I don’t see you
Not your head nor ponytail
Not you sleeping nor typing
Where in the lac fac auditorium are you?

I wrote searching for you.

Advertisements

Anew

You feel like
the warm tingles of a relationship that has gone by
with liquorice hints of something that once
was altogether beautiful and captivating;

It is not easy to get used to someone new;
similarly difficult to get used to someplace new.

But promising it is:
the telltale signs are all there amongst
the paintings on the wall and the music
playing in the backdrop.

Minute Hours

The clock strikes twelve:

The minute hand goes back and forth
Undecided on the twelfth hour
Whether to be five minutes early
Or five minutes late;

The hour hand looks on
Almost in disgust at how
The minute hand oscilates
As though in two minds;

Between the hour and minute hands
They can’t decide who moves on
Or who calls the shots
In affairs of moment and time;

Little wonder when it comes
To the brain and the heart!