GENERATIONS Copyright (C) 1997 by Not Nice Music
II. A COLLECTION OF OBSCURITY by Edwin M. Drogin

5. Untitled (When I was)

When I was
	The sky was blue and painted
		with a wide brush.
A background for my childish thoughts
		Splashed in a rush.

Talk was not words
	Dreams were fairy foot steps
In the cool clay
	Silence was the sound of birds.

Some noise would always
	Some tune to hum
I lived to sing and it was life
	I rushed to meet time
Could not let it come.

What was it?
	A clock with dials and spinning wheels.
What delight to hear it tick.
	I did not recognize the dog, snapping at time's heels.

And here I am.
	The sky is not blue
but painted with a delicate brush
	very fine - I always knew.

When I was
	I knew much much more.
Life was the picture before the jigsaw
	ripped and tore.

Now the pieces are there
	and I am.
And dreams are hard and real
	and used and trampled.
	Not clay but quicksand and fear.

And I see the dog that snaps.
	Yet...when I was was not so long ago.
So, how will I be - in the not so far ahead?
	I can wait. When I was, I had to know.

I can wait - while the red second hand sweeps beautifully round.
And the minute hand jerks
And the hour hand crawls into the depths with my life
	And I tear the calendar pages out of my heart.

Like the urge for self-destruction, I curse
the slow moving hand.