Pockets (an acrostic poem)

 

Putting her hands somewhere was always a chore

Obviously, she could just leave them at her sides.  That would be normal

Carry a purse to bring small change and a set of keys.  You know the usual

Keep some spare currency tucked away with the girls  Happens all the time.

Everything is done to preserve that everyday hourglass silhouette.

Too bad she was more of a digital watch girl.

So that’s why she wore jeans today since they have…

 

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Clock (an acrostic poem)

Counting the seconds until this ordeal is over

Listening to the bits of sand fall from the virtual hourglass in my mind

Oblivious to the alarms screaming to do something

Can’t take much more of this for my bum ticker

Killing time was never my thing

 

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