by Jeph Johnson
my dreams were stifled Sunday
when Saturday was nigh
while weather forecasts one day
sent rain into the sky
like H.G. Wells before me
I proceeded to the past
to chart a course too stormy
for memories to last
things I've done prematurely
still never leave a trace
procrastination surely
my cognizance erased
I was frozen falling
backwards while we climbed
and Father Time kept calling
while I hung-up the line
I cavorted counter-clockwise
for the future made me cringe
my watch was waving goodbye
while I reset within