Sky Full of Time 

By Tricia Marcella Cimera

When purple dusk came, mother called 

           Come in, it’s almost supper time. 

We called back Ten more minutes? 

           She would nod. 

Ten more minutes!   Time enough 

           to climb to the very top   

of the towering blue pine 

            or follow the rabbit down 

his long and dizzying hole 

            or skate round the block 

three million billion revolutions. 

            At least enough time to 

do a few cartwheeling whirls 

            across dark summer grass, 

our legs cutting fearlessly against 

            the sky of disappearing light. . .