Tuesday's Doldrums
Hours slide by
licking my heals
in stretches too short
to measure.
In those stolen secret seconds
my heart constructs magical lands
supported
upon the dust of dreams.
And the element of eyes,
long awakened to the turnings
of heartstrings played by silver fingers--
Were I to move through
on gossamer thought
mind brightened,
tears untainted,
I could not hold them
more closely or more tenderly
than I do when they fly
free
upon the page
in the wildness of play
copyright/All rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2011