the world is slowing down

a mist of milky gossamer moves in
between
my will and things to do
the clear shapes of objects
are growing soft and dull
the moment's urgency
yields to my ponderings
   of possible decisions
abstract rigidity arrests the words
things stay forever as they are

   is it a sense of death
   that delicately touches on my neck
   and steals from me the comfort
   of continuous change?

life seems to walk away
in long and measured stride
the kitchen clock has never been so fast

it measures time
from here up to the stars

it counts
and blows
the moments of my delicate eternity
one by one
into the past

* *