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This post is also available as a podcast:


This is what I would do—
if Mammon’s pointing shadow 
didn’t turn the world
into a sundial—

I would wake when I woke.
I would read in the morning shadows,
making room for a cat
between my blanketed knees.

I would get up when I got up.
I would sit and watch steam
curl into sparkling fronds
above the earth-shades of coffee.

I would be marooned.
I would set my bottled thoughts
adrift in the tides of quiet
all around.

Every day
would be a seventh day

and time’s hands 
would be pressed together
instead of running 
in circles.

“Sabbath” appears in my second book of poems, Event Horizon, which just came out on Amazon:

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