Today, and Today, and Today

Today, and today, and today –
never today will it be tomorrow,
the cat creeping about like yesterday,
filling her box like there’s no futurity.
Yet tomorrow times our day without delay,
though it remains as dark as ones past.
Today’s light will soon turn cold, burnt to nub
where the candle once stood so tall and proud,
center stage, lighting all around and into all
corners and crevices, minutes and seconds.
Poor today whose hour is usurped by what’s
yet to play and whose voice can’t be heard
over yesterday’s, and what happens off
stage makes more noise than this display.