A Poem & A Picture (Time Passes)

Time Passes

Joy Ladin

Riddled

 

Time too is afraid of passing, is riddled with holes

through which time feels itself leaking.

Time sweats in the middle of the night

when all the other dimensions are sleeping.

Time has lost every picture of itself as a child.

Now time is old, leathery and slow.

Can’t sneak up on anyone anymore,

Can’t hide in the grass, can’t run, can’t catch.

Can’t figure out how not to trample

what it means to bless.

What do ya think about that?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s