Time's a passage that will narrow
as it's traveled; clashing rocks of
past and future crush the marrow
from the present. Nagging clocks will
count each second of the numbered
days that still remain, and sound the
buzzer rousing those who slumber.
Those unwary fools who founder
on the unseen reefs of time have
never noticed how the hours will
quicken, forced through finite lives to
frothing waves, then crest and still.
Feb 16, 2015
Feb 16, 2015 at 1:13 PM UTC
Time's a passage that will narrow
as it's traveled; clashing rocks of
past and future crush the marrow
from the present. Nagging clocks will
count each second of the numbered
days that still remain, and sound the
buzzer rousing those who slumber.
Those unwary fools who founder
on the unseen reefs of time have
never noticed how the hours will
quicken, forced through finite lives to
frothing waves, then crest and still.
Finish as sonnet, or leave alone? Not sure if there's more to this one.
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