Time in Mind

Time in Mind

I have in mind a kind of time

That can’t be measured by clock

Or monitored by calendar;

Time that isn’t tucked away

In packages of seconds, days or centuries,

Doesn’t start when you wake up

Or wait for you while you’re asleep,

A different species altogether,

Hard to figure out:

Time like moonscape chaparral,

Time as dark as unlit streets,

Time as bright as an angry sun

That stares at you at noon

But loses sight of you at night;

Time as quiet as a curtain rod

That clutches the curtain from year to year

But lets it swing in the languid breeze;

Time like eyelet stars

Woven through the fabric of night;

Bodies of time through which we swim

From the shallow end of morning

To the landing of the night;

Time that lies in wait for you,

Hidden in the desert,

Deep among the creases

Of the sunbaked sand.

I have in mind a kind of time

That can’t be understood

But pulses through the ether:

Tip tap footsteps through the hall;

Boats bouncing on the rumpled sea;

Yawning morning, coral pink,

Streaks of grey in the afternoon;

Winding road of cobblestone.

Author Headshot

Walter Weinschenk is an attorney, writer and musician. Until a few years ago, he wrote short stories exclusively but now divides his time equally between poetry and prose. Walter’s writing has appeared in a number of literary publications including The Carolina Quarterly, Cathexis Northwest Press, The Closed Eye Open, The Writing Disorder, Beyond Words, Griffel, The Write Launch, The Raven Review, The Raw Art Review and others. His work is due to appear in forthcoming issues of the Iris Literary Journal, Pioneertown, and Fauxmoir. Walter lives in a suburb just outside Washington, D. C.