October 12, 2008
By Lindsay Hartman, Columbia, PA

Tick, tock,
No waves
But I’m drowning in the commonplace
As minute moves to hour, hour to day,
Day to month, month to year
And still I wait

For what?
A prince?
No, that passed with the second hand.
I’d settle for a stable boy

As golden plates pass by
I eat off of clay
And wonder wonder wonder
When perfect and mundane became synonyms,
When my world changed its orbit
From one sun to another
And why this dimmer light looks so much brighter.

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