The After is Ours

The After is Ours

 

Times like these:

They call up cackles that tackle the hours

When we're apart,

When the art of us is on pause.

Together, we revel.

We rollick.

We riot, roll, and thrive

And enjoy the sun's dive into night's jaws.

We lounge,

Sometimes in silence, sometimes in song,

As if in the night is where we belong.

All of the daytime grudges are gone,

Weeping for mercy out on the lawn.

But we do not hear them;

Not over the din

Of joy upon joy without and within.

We leave them to die,

As we live, as we cling.

How can we refuse a spring-induced dance?

How can we neglect the chance

To hold on a little longer

Before the hours again rise?

Before the cruel sun takes to the skies

And plucks us, yawning, away from our nest.

Away from rest,

Into arrest.

 

They are only hours,

Only crumbs of the day.

Longer than hours,

(the After is Ours)

We have, love, to play.