“Death is hidden in clocks… in my youth I chose as my motto
the ancient Latin maxim festina lente: make haste slowly.”
— Italo Calvino
In between the gaps
where sunlight reaches—
shades of green extend.
Shawls of fog dampen
the moving silence.
I surrendered to Time
as the backsides of train towns
and tranquil boredom took me
closer to you and then back
home. Somewhere past the darkness
where distressed light of forests spill
into borders of thriving attraction,
I dreamt bravely. I named it joy.