Time hasn’t stopped.
It drags on and on,
one moment stretching into the next,
Our dreams hover,
day-old helium balloons stuck in that thick space between rationalization
We laugh, but our smiles crack.
Tragedy attracts itself, swarming,
buzzing and bumping up against our eardrums,
and it won’t be silenced.
Reality is too real.
Nothing is as it once was.
What do we do when the future,
no longer a ladder toward our dreams,
flattens out into a perpetual,
Angela Kay is a native Ohioan, a wife of 21 years, the mother of two teenage girls and one bitchy cat, and a daycare owner and provider for the last 16 years. One can find her using her tidbits of time composing poetry on her iPhone.