Between Times

These times between times,
Transitions of one to another
Unlike winter or spring
Or Thursday
Which have standing and gravity;
Heft in the mind and extravagance on the tongue
Not that you’d know it
With all our blasé blasé and inattention
But they do and are
A destination of sorts
A roadside attraction
Rather than the passage itself
But these times between times are different
With no heart or skin
No nervous center or command bunker
Setting the rules of what’s what
No there as Ms. Stein might quip
Just a sitting on the bench
Waiting
Another image arises
Of a Wheel of Chance

Clacking like a Zydeco washboard
And skipping from one prize to the next
Thing is, I’m talking about the space between prizes
The time between times.

~ ~ Joshua Rose