THE MEANTIME

THE MEANTIME

I’m troubled by these awkward gaps,
These complicated places.

My horse is at a standstill,
Life puts me through its paces.

I’m dreaming of the day to come,
When everything will turn out fine.

Judy’s new album in the stores on Tuesday,
The new blockbuster opening soon.

The sun will rise of its own accord,
And likewise will the moon.

Yet in the darkened corners of my too impatient mind,
I prance around the borders of the restless meantime.

For Christmastime is always coming, Easter almost here.
Confetti falling in Times Square, ushering in the new year.

My surgery in September, it fills my heart with quiet hope.
Right now I just make do with pills and struggle just to cope.

These days my horse is slow and sluggish,
Stumbling on the way.

Worn down by time, long past its prime,
In search of better days.

I pray to lasso up each second, in a rare and happy mood,
And fill these cowboy arms with joy, this heart with gratitude.

This tortured waiting will be over, and joy will all be mine.

Yet in the dismal shadows, devoid of any rhyme,
I skirt across the borders of the restless meantime.

-Bruce Potts
Copyright 2008
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED