My Ire

 

the days uncoil continuously

the earth proceeds forward

with a zest unheard of

a year since your death

or is it nine months?

five weeks, maybe.

or was it three days?

It was just last Saturday

you ordered the apple cider

for your Keurig.

I swallow a tepid cup of cider

and think

no match am I

for the days and the earth

not a great fit anymore

no choice but to bend

nicely to their will

be docile

enjoy the remaining days

and think

an august service

black lace

brown casket

the air cold and acidic

my ire

does not stop a thing

This is a response to Shawna’s Melting Monday prompt!