FRIDAY, JANUARY 30CHRONUS, PROTOGENOS

Some daddies are harder to live with than others.
Pity their poor children.
Take old Chronus, for example...
bites the heads right off their shoulders.

Hard on the mother, too.
But being sister and wife,
Rhea must have known it wouldn’t be easy.

Wonder how it happened the first time.
Did he say maybe, “Hey, let me look at the baby,”
and couldn’t resist devouring it;
or did he sneak in when she wasn’t looking,
pop it in and swallow?
However it was, they’re gone like yesterday.

A poem is child of the great enemy Time,
conceived in chaos and randomness,
born in the cave of the mind
away from the soft comfort
and play of conversation
where seconds and minutes and days
eat ideas for breakfast.