Days Ahead

Days Ahead
I turned over the calendar on the first of June
And saw days numbered in front of me
Thirty days until my life changes--again.

Days ahead
Marching in orderly rows
As orderly as they'll ever be
Soon will become chaos
As they're lived, reused, milked for memories
Until, tired, they're thrown into the past

Thirty days becomes twenty-four
And twenty four will turn to ten
And ten to one,
And one to zero,
And then the memories will come
Hard and fast,
Two years' worth of days will be milked,
Sapped, until, dry and worthless,
They will be thrown away
While dim memories,
Wispy shades
Are all that's left.

Earthquake

Earthquake
Quiet ticking of the clock,
No chimes, just telling the time,
Early morning, before the sunrise.
Deep below the earth
Where the molten rock flows
A shifting ridge
And above where the cold river flows
A tremor starts--
It shakes the buffalo in their stalls
Shakes the house in the village
Shakes the apartment in the city
Shakes the beds and the clock
Ticking on.
The tremor starts, and still--
Quiet ticking of the clock,
no chimes, just telling the time,
Early morning before the sunrise.
But the doors still swing from the shaking.