Over & Over

by Dave Rideout

over and over

and over
and over
and over

seconds, minutes, days
hours, weeks moreover


years over the shoulder
going, growing, gone

but wise?

different size
cold, hardened
still alive

scenes of murder round my eyes
flyers’ footprints, not the crime

but if i died
what’s behind but time?

withered wasted instances,
scattered to and fro, here and there
tocks and ticks

but is that it?

could i reset the clock,
go back a bit
change some things?
live with purpose –
not adrift?