pieces — a sestina

It’s quite odd to go back in time,

when really you’re in the future, having crossed the lines

of aging through the years. It’s not just you that’s changed—

it’s me too, I’ve aged—

and all of your lines look so much finer, edges

that could cut my illusions to pieces.

Sometimes I stop and think about those pieces,

and the peace that I left back in that time.

Was that when I started growing my own edges?

Sharp, cutting, and placed in strategic lines.

They did not warn me what would come with age,

or else I’d have appreciated our softness, anticipating the changes.

It happens so quickly, these things that change.

I have all of these new puzzles now, hoping you might have a missing piece,

I walk through your halls, confused— is it age?

Who set the clock on your fate timed?

Which stranger came into you to re-draw your lines?

Were they not sharp enough, or sleek enough— your edges?

It’s enough to push my mind over the edge—

when was the last time I saw you before you changed?

I know I was focused on crossing a million invisible finish lines,

but nobody told me you were being torn to pieces!

If somebody had, I’m sure I would’ve adjusted my timing,

feigned a world stopped— where for a moment neither of us are aging.

But now I revel in your presence next to fine wine aged.

Your corners feel new because I now go to new edges.

I didn’t quite understand what would come with time,

or how I might embrace, or even fall in love with, the changes.

Back then I didn’t quite know how much I’d cherish each and every piece,

or how the puzzles I was building depicted my silver linings.

So long as your walls are lined

and you continue to stand and gain age,

I can accept that sometimes pieces

must fall into new places, edges

must gain that sharpness to stand. Accepting change

appears to be as much of an act of eternal love as accepting the sheer concept of time.

I thank you for your time, for your willingness to change;

for in teaching me how to age and draw stability from new lines,

you’ve again thrown me over the edge of a miraculous journey in searching for all of the pieces.