That shifting pile of grains, my lifetime of decisions, leads me here: Too late for “now.” Only “then” and “when” in the toolbox. What to build with that? What to fix? How well have I learned to use these tools? How many scars, misshapen nails along the way? Sitting back is more uncomfortable than I’d thought, and there’s no good traction here to push myself ahead. All’s abstraction. Subtraction, de- spite the slow accretion. Maybe that’s the reason that I sleep: respite from the endless need—hurry up please, it’s time—to decide.
About the Poet:
Thomas Zimmerman teaches English, directs the Writing Center, and edits The Big Windows Review at Washtenaw Community College, in Ann Arbor, Michigan. His poems have appeared recently in Everything in Aspic, Tigershark, and the anthology Nocturne: Poetry of the Night.
Ephemeral Elegies 
love this and the picture is so appropriate!!
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