Sky Full of Time
By Tricia Marcella Cimera
When purple dusk came, mother called
Come in, it’s almost supper time.
We called back Ten more minutes?
She would nod.
Ten more minutes! Time enough
to climb to the very top
of the towering blue pine
or follow the rabbit down
his long and dizzying hole
or skate round the block
three million billion revolutions.
At least enough time to
do a few cartwheeling whirls
across dark summer grass,
our legs cutting fearlessly against
the sky of disappearing light. . .