Never Made Sense to Me [An Original Poem]

"Seven ways to Sunday."
Never made much sense to me.
Time moves one way.

Ever notice Now
is ever Present
and always fleeting?

We collect it
in a thing called Past.

[7-31-2015 © Monique Finley]
Image Source

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A Little History

I dislocated my thumb a few months earlier when I'd hooked my thumb on my service dog's leash. I prefer to write poetry on paper. There's something cathartic about the act of writing and I couldn't hold a pen in my right hand. My writing hand.

So, you're damn right! I used the other hand.

Problem is that my left hand's writing capacity at about the 2nd grade level. That left hand's nickname is "craps hands" when it comes to saving the mustard bottle from falling on the floor. As a craps dealer, you're trained to use both hands with equal efficiency, but that's a story for later. Promised Hive account@knowledge-trust a Riverboat Dice story, which is coming soon! If you haven't caught his Vegas-based Craps Dealer Chronicles you should check it out.

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Twitter: mfinley80
SteemIt Intro: What's Up, STEEMIT?! I'm Monique Finley, a Blogger, Poet, and Author of the Free E-Serial: Terra Damnata!
Serial Novel: Terra Damnata, Book 1 of The Pu'Shing Bhu'Tons Series