Damn near ten thousand buzzing flies around, ICloud updates, Twitter rage, TikTok trends. Still thousands more lights blazing on my phone.
By Steve Hanson3 years ago in Poets
Distant fields, marbled with penumbras of clouds, Isolated within the cradle of the hills. Here, I Stand, repose against the waiting wind, their touch
Dear J------, In my dreams, You stood, in the doorway, Etched from the rain, That descended, in gray Down the window.
An apple angled against an aspen arm. * Autumn’s auroras actualized among an afterglow. * Amber air, adrift against
A physicist frets over quantum mechanics, Says: “It’s not empirically real!” in a panic. But knows its conclusions alone
Ancient creatures sleep under the soil With bones turning slowly to oil. Though, above ground we’re alive, It’s much easier to drive
I once knew winters That spanned the length of dreams. But Now, my winters sleep.
Caged in Babylon They dreamed that time moves forward, But circles back home.
Kant said: “Time is not An empirical concept;” I read by dusk’s light.
Aged, I mark time as The moon hides her face. But, young, I swam lunar seas.
Ozymandias In stone, gave his voice to sand. “Despair” whispers time.
In flight, it carries The season’s last dream of blue Against the gray sky
