361. The calendar-keeper

let me warn you
not to visit her

she
lives in
a day of many seasons

each hour
she sprouts a hundred
naive ideas
restless thoughts

each hour
she blooms a hundred
colorful dances
of passion and wrath
and love and regret
and exuberance and desolation

each hour
she sheds her being
in crumbly words
and sits in an empty hull
shrouded in
dark silence
and white noise

let me warn you
not to visit her

those who visit her
do not live long
but they live longer
than they wished they did