the ocean waves crash in and out
          in and out
                              in
                      and
              out
on a loop
            loop
               loop
                  loop
repeat after repeat repeat repeat
         again and again and again and again
a force pushes them
            a force pulls them
                                     push                  pull
                                          push          pull
                                             push     pull
                                                pushpull
like clockwork
like a magnet
-you & i

They call it still life. All
as still as death. Perhaps
the painter's hand was also stilled
in contemplation, rapt, fulfilled.

Glum fish, lolling pheasants,
bread and cheese, garlic, cherries,
apples, oranges, lemons,
but it's the light that pleases.

Ravelling, revealing vision,
casting shadows, changing shapes,
glinting glasses, devilling detail,
the time warp of the stopped clock.

White as the ticking clock face
You struck me. Violent.
Like running seconds dripping away.
Red fell from your lips
and ate my heart.
The numbers framed your face.
All dark ebony,
Dark and sharp enough to cut.

Your stomach coils and knots,
Your hands wringing in your lap.
Will they have missed you as much as you missed them?
Will they remember the fun times you had together?
Your palms start to visibly sweat,
Your entire body heat rising.
Will they actually be back?
Will they have changed?
Your heart pounds,
Your breathing quickens
As the hands of the clock tick,
And you wonder whether they will be
Gone forever.

Nature is a giant clock,
Where lives ticks like moments,
Every second, a destruction,
Every second, a moment of creation.
What then life is, the beginning of an end.

Pretty little mushrooms

Growing in the sky

8 feet, 50 feet, 100 feet high

Blasts of radiation  

Blows us all away

When it turns to midnight

In the middle of the day