Time Frieze

A warm breeze brushes
across this terrace
giving a cooling effect
on my not quite tan
slightly sunburnt skin;
I remember standing just over there
under the balcony frieze
on a different day
while a mocking sun
meanly reflected on me.

Today, treetops sway
thanking the gentle winds,
potted ferns agree in kind –
many dozen times before
they have withstood
tough gusts
with harsh rain bouncing
against the turquoise clay;
they remember each storm
I presume.

Maybe when I stood there
once I thought
about how it would feel
to fall onto the cement below
and perhaps
I wondered
if my estranged half-sister
or anyone would care,
or even hear anything about it,
and think about how it had felt.

I find that difficult
to believe (if that was me)
as I sip water
from my hydro-flask
fatigued
by a noon swim
after loving,
lazing
on this same weathered
floral cushioned rattan chair.

The space between then and now
decorates the cornices,
running along the ceiling
from pillar to pillar surrounding me
with recognition
or realization
of the strength
of those potted ferns
and something ever-present even more powerful
than any wind.

One response to “Time Frieze”

  1. I really like this. You are gifted.

    Like

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