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Timex

Writer's picture: Kristin BergerKristin Berger

A poem by Kristin Berger

An hour glass on a table with purple flowers next to it.

We have not started too late.

Regret belongs in roadside ditches

to be overtaken by freeway poppies.

We have hours within hours for our blooms

to live their uncomplicated bright cycles.

There is no time to dwell on lost time.

I wear my father’s stopped wristwatch

with the fraying leather band to confuse myself

every time I think I’m in a hurry. 11:17

could be the lip of morning, sweet breath

after tea and honey, or that dark tug

of midnight coming to tuck you in.

Either way, its gold wands remind me

of arms permanently opened, just enough,

outstretched, about to envelop each other

like we are notes we wrote and forgot 

in our pockets that survived washings

and dryings softened by years, timestamps 

that can still be deciphered

like small, sturdy fortunes. 


Hear Kristin read her poem:


TimexKristin Berger


 

Kristin Berger is the author of six poetry collections including Earthwork (The Poetry Box, 2022), Echolocation (Cirque Press, 2018), and is on the board of directors of Playa at Summer Lake. Kristin lives in the Portland, Oregon area and is the mother to two grown children. Learn more at kristinbergerpoet.com.


Photo:

Nathan Dumlao

189 views5 comments

5 Comments


Beautiful poem. The ending is so strong.

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fpcpoupore
Aug 12, 2024

Quite poignant

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Replying to

Isn't that a stunner!

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lois.hibbert
Aug 11, 2024

So much beautiful imagery - “the lip of the morning…or that dark tug of midnight” -“Washings and dryings softened by years…” Reminds me to slow down, savour the moments. Thank you.

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Replying to

So glad you enjoyed it. I love the reminder that there is still time. I need that one.

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