Ode to Lost Time

Find me in wasted prayer to my lost time.

I’ll be washed up on the shores of my mind,

snared under dry seaweed, plastic ribbon and krill

thinking of the ocean deep.

I’ll think about the years I’ve had,

and each squandered choice I carry with me,

each moment that I could have pocketed

but wasted on an empty thing.

I bring together a list in my mind.

The empty hours on the internet I most wish I still had—

pointless shallow thumb-twiddling

and waiting for the next day to come.

When the tide pulls me from my prayer,

I hope I know how to swim.