cracks in the air

on the canal bridge you see cracks in the air

that peel away like the bark of an old tree

or the oil of a dried-out painting

and when you stop to stare they pull you in,

knock the wind right out your sails
pulling teeth like pulling nails
sting in your eyes like rings of salt

when they come, they come silently
slices of time that slowly bleed into

your present tense, like
water drawn up from a well
that slowly drips back down again,
and round and round the bucket goes,
water pouring from the holes

if you want you can call them memories
cracks in the air that freeze and thaw

and buckets falling in the breeze

and you end up saying what you did back then

you’ve thought this before, haven’t you?

did you turn a leaf, a page, a few,

or are you turning round but standing still?

and lurking at the bottom of the well,
the thing that tugs on heart strings
that keeps you moving half-pinned
that drives your unconscious thought,
is not what could happen to you,

it's what's already been

but you never were enough back then,

and you’ll never make time undone

and still you expect the past

to happen next