The Tiny Gap

The worry that goes into
showing up on time
or late, then never, isn't
what folks call pleasant.
The windows are open and tended
in the constant trail birds leave
behind, strings and theories
in the patience of clear
blue skies forever. It ought
not be disturbed anymore
than one has to, it
is enough for the time-being,
there are too many aches
and pinches already.
The hopeful cancellations
when change winks
at the clocks, vary
over the stories one is told.
This one says one thing and that
one says another until the sky
calls children home for the evening,
it's alright now - come on in.
The day is over and there are
many beds to fill, our eyes to close,
the morning is just hours away.