Pinochle Time

It’s when you realize how basic you are.
How much you really need.
Bravery, yes, but also
sadness in all these little choices,
the trivialities.

When our minds are unnecessary, or simply unused.

In the pinochle time, the milk
drinking time.

In the waiting to fall asleep time.

In the breakfast, lunch and dinner time. Fruit
salad time. Time with no noise. Time with
ice and a straw.

Time waiting for test results.
Time that
reminds you it is there. The time in between

visits to cemeteries.

The time we spend catching our breath
at the tops of the stairs. Or removing nail polish,
or celebrating holidays
like Thanksgiving, and New Years.

The time we think we lost but never had.

Spent studying geology, dissecting a piglet, looking
through a telescope.

Mourning.
The time on a mountain. The time
of war, envy or jealousy. Of our treacherous

stabs at love. Whereas, most of us,
our love is so imperfect
it does more harm than good.