by Lawrence Ernest Bridges

I settle in my chair
slowly, locks clicking
to the infinite and everything’s
right with the world.

My shadow-body
is carefree, pulsing
out of me with my living
body’s outline, in waves.

The little I’ve done
doesn’t worry me,
yet done a little still
and morning isn’t here yet.

I raged for people
to help me and for people
to help. We’ve found
each other, locked in peace.

Inside us, days are numbered
but our hours are slow just the same
and there’s plenty of time
to get everything done.