my sedentary sediment sentiment

by Steven J. Serafiani

It comes out at the strangest of times,

calendars gained creases,
clocks got dusty and snooze achromatized,
the earth wobbled to a different degree,
chlorophyll became absent then from feast to famine,
laid level with several different eye shadows,
left coasts,
collected change by punching dirty tickets,
swallowed into the void of indifference,

Strangest of times,

all it takes is ducks crossing the road,
brakes grind to a halt,
stare at webbed feet slowly plodding on pavement,
the mother close behind,
protective and careful,
reflect on how distant and empirical,
mute my radio,
sit in silence and cry,

The strangest of times.