Lay Time of Another Playmate

There is no quick fix for my steady mind

in this aggravated time.

Suggestions of time and space,

and my own freedom,

cannot be alleviated.

My feet are cold,

and life seems too short — or too tall —

as I wait for rain again

above the eternal abyss.

I still want to play,

not suppressed,

but in echoes of another time —

the lay time

of another playmate.