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Poetry

Time is the Little Speck

Anna-Marie Sprenger, Sarah Aldama

May 11

Piece by Anna-Marie Sprenger. Image titled “Home Studio” by Sarah Aldama.

Time is the little speck
where they try to squeeze their warm, wriggling bodies in
and leave a scribbled note in mother earth’s suggestion box

“Mother, love, you put me here, and I tiptoed through,
Clawed still water
Coughed on wind
There wasn’t much to bear
It wasn’t easy either, Mama ”

God reads and chuckles, pauses,
moves a piece across her checkerboard
as the grandmothers watch from above.

God pours resin around her favorites
till they’re stuck in hard amber
and forget their names
God gives her women
plenty of time,
(for now, less
for forever, more)
in this warped light, autumn-tinted screen
biological clocks savagely ticking, screaming
for these rocks to shatter away.

Mother earth gives them time to be small
There is time to be small
so small, when the universe looks in.

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