timing and bones

because time had usually failed her.
every place she knocked,
no one to answer,
only bones, ghosts and echoes.
frameless sets of windows,
the clock had died some time ago,
hands stuck in their place, a quarter past two o’clock.
every time she wandered,
only cracks beneath her feet,
a sidewalk oozing with memories,
shredded pieces of tape,
in the shape of a heart, 
to stick like glue, 
to the bottom of her shoe,
lifeless, tossed again,
on the corner of begin and again.
every time she smiled, the bravery set in,
the rollercoaster was set for delivery,
pushing her over the edge,
leaving her with nothing to hold on to,
no belt to keep her from flying out,
just the air to let her fall,
some moisture from the clouds
and rays from the sun, above her head, 
her shadow, cast about like the rest.
the right time,
set aside for another day,
the right place,
overcast with chance of rain.

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PoemsASHLEY CHILDS