Time has turned slowly, collaborated
by unreality, with some shreds of surrealism
dragging its heels painfully, almost
spuriously. And, why not. I am spurious.
So were you. That’s why we got along so well.

I haven’t contacted your family, I know they have
mixed feelings about me. I was the one you ran to
when your world was closing in; your living Valium,
to an extent. We would sit on the picnic table
watching unreality, in the form of a peaceful yard.

How is time moving for you, inside sanctuary?
It seems to me, no matter how structured
the days are, your mind could still tumble
into great swaths and rifts of time’s chaos,
of wondering how your life got so fragmented.

Is it possible to merge unreality with actuality?
With enough cohesive strength not to break,
once again, when echoes are vibrating, and voices
demand reality-dues? Will you be able to?
I am hoping ‘yes’, but, I really don’t have a clue…

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 2/7/05