A contoured villanelle using "The House on the Hill" by Edwin Arlington Robinson
Time moves slowly, yet time slips away.
I want to grab its tail, to hold it still
while listening to what time has to say.
Before I fail, before my hair goes gray
and others only hear my voice as shrill,
I try to slow, as time slips away.
Sometimes I count the hours in a day
and feel dizzy, panicked, light-headed, ill
while trying to ignore what time might say.
The days float by like cypsela gone astray—
I glower at the world from my windowsill
while wisps of lost time meander away.
I brood alone. Smile to others to downplay
the way it hounds me: Tick. Tick. I have no skill,
no time to listen to what others say.
I get it that I’m hell-bound toward decay.
I prefer seclusion on my isolated hill,
But as slow time speeds, shifts, slips away,
I no longer hear what time has to say.
Dustin Brookshire’s (he/him) fourth and latest chapbook is Repeat as Needed (Harbor Editions, 2025). He is a co-editor of Let Me Say This: A Dolly Parton Poetry Anthology (Madville, 2023) and editor of When I Was Straight: A Tribute to Maureen Seaton (Harbor Editions, 2024). Learn more at dustinbrookshire.com.
Beth Gylys (she/her) is the principal investigator of Beyond Bars, a Mellon Foundation–sponsored journal for and by incarcerated writers and artists, and an award-winning poet and Distinguished Professor at Georgia State University. Recent publications include After My Father (Dancing Girl Press, 2024) and Body Braille (Iris Books, 2021). See linktr.ee/bethgylys.