Poem 20150619

the slow insistent beating of the heart
not unlike the old man’s
in that story by poe
so loud that it could be heard
through floorboards
and walls
never mind a ribcage
and half an inch of flesh

that slow insistent beating
in my own chest
reminds me that i am alive
and that i have to go for a hike
in the morning
and shopping the next day
and work the day after that

every day the beating of the heart
a calendar
a clock
an hourglass that never runs the sand up
a waterwheel that only turns in one direction
to turn the mill
to grind my bones
to make your bread