a cherry

a seemingly harmless

red, round fruit

you pop the whole thing

in your mouth

bite down on the

soft sweet juicy pulp

then suddenly

you reach the middle

expecting the soft flesh

you get a solid pit

Time’s hands are surprisingly familiar for all the change they bring. Their grasp is a feeling we all know and yet always seem to forget until they put us a down.

Every Saturday, after work, I visit my grandmother at her nursing home. It’s about a half an hour drive to get there, but it’s worth the drive. Grandma G isn’t the normal nursing home type you’d think of: sweet, unsuspecting, a kind of elderly innocence.

They say that time is a constant,

In math world it is an unchanging letter k. 

But I say that it becomes a variable,

A perfect letter x. 

Time can be carefully controlled, ceaseless,

A cascading current.