I walk by twisted sister, favorite tree—
two branches intertwined, dancing

cherry that almost died, dwindled,
somehow still survives like I survive,

holding leash, fourth generation dog
after passing house of mom whose son

left the earth while mine still breathes
each step reminder how quickly years

pass when hours stretch, elasticity of time
a concept pondered, recorded in songs

playing in my mind, no need to cue
recording imprinted on my soul, I

can sing the lyrics and hum melody
interrupting sleep, underscoring poems

I write in my head when I’m writing,
leaving me lonely when I’m not—

bored, restless hours wasted I claim,
returning to the page where I belong