2000/2ndqtr/time

I’m learning to give myself
to time,
to let it move me around.
I sit in it like an upholstered
wingback with a footstool.
My feet up.
I used to push it around
like a vacuum, or try to,
sucking up what I could.
Time does not like to be
treated that way.
It resists and withholds,
like a woman who wants
to be courted,
who purposefully won’t wear
an easy-to-get-into shirt.
Time is more generous
the less you demand.
I’m learning to take
what it gives me
and ask for nothing
else.

4/5/00