TIME ON THE MOVE

Xanadu Press, 2020
Photos by Barbara Rosenthal

EVENTUALLY

the friendship will clarify or die,
the wound heal or fester,
the loose tooth tighten or fall out,
the falsehood reveal itself
and the fabricator be put in chains.
Eventually, the traffic will untie
and the bumpers locked together
will separate, and the cars will hum
along the freeway,
free in their release
all the way to Tuscaloosa.

Eventually, the seas will rise higher,
the stars come closer,
and a new species,
as full of accident as our own,
will rise up to build and knock down things
for a very long minute.


Eventually,
we’ll ship out dressed like quality
to have a magic time in the coming months,
and our world, impressed by the wake of our passage,
will whisper within itself,
“maybe tonight.”