The Better Side of Man

When solitude presses cool
palms over my ears and bends to confer with time, I close my eyes
and sigh,
letting the conspirer design.
I happen to think upon comparison
that solitude is the better speaker
and kinder to me than time could ever be.

I can not hear their dialogue
(Indeed I do not dare) so when
gradually solitudes pressure on my
head slips quietly inside again, I
know he’s going back to bed.

And as I can’t ask him once he slips
quietly away, nor does he ever speak to me
I sit and ponder wonderously,
what was bargained and if he gained
us another year or day or century.

The Better Side of Man

JessysGirl08

Joined February 2008

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