Time

Too cold to sleep,alone, waiting to be warmed.Time moves so slowly itcatches itself, then stopsa curling ribbon of all these nightsbefore critical eternity.Backwards I watch myselfalone with the rain falling in.Drowning rivulets of opened skyas I am.Children sleep, out beyond this smallenclosure a grey domed sky,there is no sentiment, nothing at allexcept, time: twisting itself to laugh.Speeded up skin flakes to dust. No change.Quiet with cold’s fingers tangled in my hair.I leave my mind alone to spin back upontimes cross, I slowly move beyond .