Time Between Lost and Never

Mervyn r. seivwright

My mother always said

tomorrow will never come,

stressing my unclean room,

unraked leaves could not wait

on time. My teenage spirit

had truckloads of time, putting

off today for tomorrow. Her

tomorrow was today—paying

my loafing with sore arms,

sore behind, restricted with more

chores in kind—my ears echo

her voice,

tomorrow will never come.

A quarter century of life created

caverns repeating tomorrow

will never come echoes. Enclosed

in the prison of today—paired

breathing with time’s present moment,

not in the ticking seconds of time

I cannot hear. Even my issues

are built up window-grime darkening

the transparency of tomorrow away

if I do not wipe the windows

of problems today. Newspapers

of yesterday are tools to educate

the current moment, never to amend

events of yesterday. My mother

never said yesterday is lost, lost

to missed moments of daughter’s talent

shows, son’s birthday, mother’s last

breath. Trapped in time’s prison

between the lost and never

makes today’s moments move

with invested value as liquid gold

pouring through fingers, standing

in time’s river, attempting to catch each drop.

Today, I Walked Through Cave Hill Cemetery

Today, I walked between Weeping Katsuras

listening to duppies speaking in syncopated waves

tree leaves breezing as Morse Code connections

walking in grass seams my eyes blend the stone-names

wind of the duppies fleeting in syncopated waves

petrified memories as wood logs—loved family dogs

I walked in grass seams with eyes blending stone-names

today, I walked around a bumble bee zipping away

petrified crane and wood logs—loved family dogs

a robin laying in grass, lets air declutter its wings

today, I walked around a bumble bee zipping

near carved ivy, tethering bones to spirits of past

a robin laying in grass, lets air declutter its wings

today, I walked among gray stones and statues

next to carved ivy, tethering bones to spirits of past

poor statured lives cling to earth’s lime moss for embrace

today, I walked among gray stones and statues

sculptured ivy tethering spirits to headstones

poor statured lives cling to earth’s lime moss for embrace

I wind around white wildflowers with tramping feet

sculptured ivy tethering spirits to headstones

today, I walked around rainbow refractions

I wind around white wildflowers with tramping feet

ants building cities in Roman-line foundations

today, I walked around rainbow refractions

living ivy tethers spirits to the living in winds

ants building cities in Roman-line foundations

ivy shaped window carved deep in a tree

living ivy tethers spirits to the living in winds

tree leaves breezing as Morse Code connections

ivy shaped window carved deep in a tree

Weeping Katsuras whispers went silent—I left the marble sea

Mervyn R. Seivwright is from Jamaican heritage, born in London, England and currently resides in Ramstein, Germany. He has appeared or has forthcoming published works in AGNI Literary Magazine, the Santa Fe Literary Review, The Trinity Review, Montana Mouthful Literary Magazine, The Scribe Literary Journal, Flights Literary Journal, Rigorous Journal, iō Literary Journal, Prometheus Dreaming Cultural Journal, Toho Journal, and Z Publishing’s 2019 Emerging Poets in Kentucky. He has previously been commissioned by the British Museum in Ipswich, England. Mervyn holds an MFA for Writing from Spalding University’s School of Writing, Louisville KY.