Missed

A snafu .... understated,
Botched and tangled
You received
An executed sigh

I pulled carefully,
Sniper precision
Planned and placed
And, delivered as such

'Tis the law, you know
That no true aim
Falls in fact
Where it's meant to go

For such malice
And pretense
And pointed mark
Would be no celebration
Should no arrow arc.

It's not in years,
The counting.

For each year
I grow old,
The past it stays as rooted
And your warnings
Reign in bold.

Where at first,
Faint and soft,
Shortly after the making
It's like the years
Are an oven
And the stewards
Are baking

Seared and searching
For the "off"
To soothe
And cool down
Seeking the soft
But it won't come around

Dulled not a bit
Only vivid rewind
Time going backward
Merciless mind.

Chasing Dust

In my room
I made my stand
Chasing dust
With child's hand
The more I pawed
The more I lost
I knew but naught
Of price or cost
'Twas only dust
And I but four
Grasping at
What flew before

At 33
It's all still dust
Priceless years
And wanderlust
The more I reach
The more it scatters
The more I see
All that matters
Not the dust
Whether lost,
Or caught
But child's will
Spoiled naught