poemetry

2020-12-30

tik-tok
is not the sound
of days
falling behind 
into the past
but days
are little more than
aggregations
of moments
of minutes
tik-tok
how quickly
how cruelly
they sneak past us
pretending to loom
large & imposing
only to shatter
and fade
into dust
at the tiny
deadly touch
tik-tok
of the relentless flow
of now
into now
tik-tok
and before i can
stop and claim
my piece of
here & now
tik-tok
i’m an old man
and the future
was eaten
long ago
leaving darkness
waiting for me
tik-tok
and the moment
is so warm
so quiet
tik-tok
all i could ever
long for,
this moment.

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