Twisting my thoughts on my tounge
I send them tumbling over tastebuds
And through my teeth
Seconds fly by so fast
It takes a minute
To realize one is missing
From the clock
I saw it last playing with the dog
They were playing fetch
I cross the road with my
Copper pail again
And over
It gets full with pebbles
And corn kernals
Every time I step on the hidden red stone
My sweaty hand drops the full pail
That never had anything in it
The dry dirt boils with the
Chill of my firey step
I stare daggers at anything
With eyes to meet mine
Many casualties that day
So long ago
Yesterday, I believe
We call it