you’re on mute

“get us out of here!!”
raspy echoes bounce 
harshly against the dull
grey cinder block walls

prisoners of war
in the year of perfect 
vision entrapped
wishing for tunnels finding none
pacing the cellblock 
no one in no one out

father time - immemorial guard
three hands carrying 
keys jangling round and round 
deadbolt turns over to twelve
door swings open

“hasta la vista!!”
like a backdraft awakening a smoldering fire
the hordes flood the open 
gates as the ball drops in silence – even 
Ryan Seacrest wants to get older –
arms flailing, elbows digging, hips hitting

everyone’s rushing with no
where to go
hedonism has no headway
decapitated in its plight
for pleasure
we flee 
from death and die 
alone

yet 
one remains
behind   paint-encrusted vertical bars
reveal a blue smidgeon of what could be
the sun catches a dropping tear
spectral colours splayed on cinder
father time waits at the door
but this one is in
no hurry

Written by Scott Moore
Illustrated by Landon Wideman

Inspired January 2021