The Stuff of Gold
a hunk of chunk of time
no corked bottle
but a crystal goblet
filled with sparkling possibilities
and possibilities for sparkle
tick tock, tick tock
goes my hunk of chunk of time
i could dance til’ I’m dizzy
or sit like a lady
sing a song of sixpence
or rock an 80’s tune
maybe read a Tolstoy novel
or a book by Dr. Seuss
tick tock, tick tock
goes my hunk of chunk of time
i could be outrageously silly
or somber and stately
bake almond biscotti
or lick frosting off oreos
perhaps do something backwards
like eat breakfast after lunch
tick tock, tick tock
goes my hunk of chunk of time
the stuff of gold
this hunk of chunk of time
a whole lot of nothing
or a bunch of something
slipping through my fingers
whether I do or do not
tick tock, tick tock
goes my hunk of chunk of time
*from the files of very bad poetry by bia
