ANOTHER TIME

 

Time I scoff at your relentless tick tock 

for what do you signify ?

The passing of trains,

Planes to catch,

Or some other appointment in your

O! so certain future.


As for my life,

It will not be measured by a mechanism.

Each grain of me passes through

so easily

and I am piled

then dissipated

spread wide upon a widening shore

to lose myself inside each wave,

Each wave that sifts me pure. 



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