Time

Uncategorized

It is awash

again, aiming

sunrise moonset

months then years,

gone into the sliding jaw mouth past

slipping water-like the falling.

Is it the photograph

stopping this moment,

or slowing

the bubble of that, or this,

bursting the passing

membrane

with its glassy lens-tooth

as if this could stop the flow and flow of it?

Days pass

with the claw and claw

as it trembles

but never slows

the tilt of the eye

the kink of the clock,

runnels of it through the evaporating mind

falling and falling

moonset, sunrise.