Hands & Strands Poem by John Sensele

Strands and hands of time snap laps of sleep
Which assail complacency and truancy and bail out clans and their plans
For the next twenty fours and rows of months and weeks before they leap
Out of sight in a flight away from abuse plights back their venison vans.

Strands and hands of time nibble at nostalgia
Which blurs liquid lines between fact, tact, act and a pact
Mixed up and fixed by a jinx of a lynx in Georgia
Where a huge refuge and a deluge dents sought to subtract.

Strands and hands of time march forth
Forever scouring seconds and devouring hours
Spent with rare care or misspent on a calico cloth
Debating and feting trivia with neither showers nor powers.

Strands and hands of time interrogate gates
Into life and gates when life comes to the end of its tether
Ruing wasted opportunities and busted ingenuities on thresholds of threats
That etch access to success and bleach out of belief every bother.