The Absence of Time

Let me have the absence of time if it is what makes the heart grow larger,

Let my yard grow completely wild, if there is grass on the other side,

Let me lose count, so as to be surprised at the number of chickens that hatch,

Let my house have no doors to prevent one from closing,

Let my dog sleep the same hours as I, so I can let it lie,

Give my cat nine lives so as not to impede her curiosity,

Let me make only recycled haste to reduce the waste,

Let my teeth need help holding, because they are so long and my hands in need of mittens because of my warm heart, worn on my sleeve,

Give me two left feet so neither can be wrong on which to step off,

Let it pour when it rains so water will always remain under the bridge,

Let me don clothes made of all nine yards,

Give me a new moon, that isn’t blue, so it isn’t that long until I see you,

Give me the absence of time.

Mutations

Dust bunnies now cloud my mind

like the cumulus shaped ones

we used to imagine

during the days we gazed up into the sky

Just like the porcelain rabbit figurines

which lined the China cabinets

in our formal dining room.

Had they hopped from their rabbit holes all the way from China?  I always wondered as a child.

When did it change from careless afternoons watching the clouds to greater responsibilities looming overhead?

At what age did it become a question about China’s historic Great Wall instead of a misnomer involving a tiny, fragile, hare?

Adulthood, you are a sneaky, unsuspecting tumor.

How on Earth did the clouds float away so fast and the cancer spread so quickly?