Uncertain melancholy in the midst
of a still moonlit evening,
I find myself apprehensive
of a timeless clock that keeps on ticking.
Tiresome minutes crawl on by,
but the precise seconds are obnoxious,
screaming out of tune in a cramped mind.
Throughout this evening of blinding moonlight,
I pen ambiguous thoughts,
while each one knocks anxiously at the door.
With a coercive respect, I allow hasty time for them,
but such joyous occasion,
there is no thrill
like the sheep who croon much too early before their season…
I can not say, I pen upon deaf ears
for their lullaby echoes maliciously.
Escape is adamant,
so melancholy is its tune
until the season is nigh.
And so, I bid adieu.
– Ariana R. Cherry 2016