Time I strip
the walls of my things.
First

to go will be the
clocks, still

there, killing
time. Even to grow
young, in spite
of time, in

spite. But out
of time,

looking in. Look
out. Look
back in

look back in: claw
hammer. Cut
glass. Burnt
umber rug. Crushed
velvet cushion.

Time to stop
stalling. Time
to start, up. And
away, a way. Where

bare walls bear
all the weight, bare
all, bear all
the wait away.

Jerry McGuire
from his book The Flagpole Dance
Lynx House Press, 1990

used with permission of the poet