Time To Kill

Waiting but not restless, more thankful than anything else. I do love a pause of a known and limited size. That's age right there.

The work of a carpenter can be pretty repetitive but you learn to put your mind into a mode where you are aware but your hands aren’t gripping the wheel. After weeks of, say, hanging drywall, then taping and finishing it, you wonder if there is any other color but white. I would much rather have time on my hands than drywall mud.

                      Time To Kill

                  The day is afoot
          and Sweety, the cafe dog,
             in her faded pink collar,
      is within easy reach of my foot.
   Splayed out on the cool concrete,
               her stubby tail wags
        when I rub her with my toes,
          my leg only half extended.
           We are ten minutes walk
                to the train station-
        our train leaves in two hours.    
This is a handy sort of eternity in which
        to scribble, dawdle, meander
            and, with good behavior,
                time left to wander.

          No need to kill time here,
             far better to woo her.
      We could be wed an eternity.
               With the hour hand
      holding fast the minute hand,
              we'll pledge our vows
            and watch the sun shift.
 We shall see, in time, if that shadow
             will shade that balcony.
             Will the cathedral bells
                  break our reverie?

          I’ve not had so much time
             laying out ahead of me
           since the day I was born.
            Back then, I didn’t know
               what to do with it all,
       but now, my options beset me.
          My best chance of survival
                is to let time know
                   I would not kill,
              even in self defense.
          If ever I did such a crime,
              then I would become
      a soulless ghoul with no right
        nor time to pet even a dog.

                   Lisieux- 5/23