by Marissa Bell Toffoli.
We scale what was once
a mountain too high.
I wonder when will enough be
enough for you, knowing full well
I want another go, too.
Not a one of us wants to be told
no. How that long o
echoes off the granite
as we beckon you to turn around.
Time to go home.
But what use is time for you?
What other word could mean less
when you are living in the moment,
operating by emotions,
yet to learn how
all your moments
will stitch together.
How time and memories
stretch and fold for you
to carry them all at once.
You run ahead
to jump off a redwood stump.
You don’t think to look back.
I catch up
while part of me is already
thinking of once, again.