i have a secret

i need to keep it to myself.

yet there it crouches,

haunched,

at the back of my tongue

ready to pounce at the first unguarded moment

the mouth is opened and

defences are not engaged,

to shout my darkness to the world

caring not who it injures and grieves.

time will dissolve it,

carry it away into the sphere of unspokenness,

where it will forever remain silenced.

do i have that much time before

the bridal processional plays?

can i keep it restrained

without exhaustion setting in?

i think so.

              i hope so.

i have to.

i want her to be three again,

to be at my knee again,

to start over again.

few are the moments we shared.

i want the wheel to stop turning

for just a bit.

let me catch my breath.

melding of maiden into mother

was not this

bloody painful,

mother into crone is

making me crazy,

feeling helpless as the icy crystals of time

melt

        through

                     my

                          open

                                  fingers.

please,

somebody stop the turning wheel

for just awhile longer.

please.