Each moment moves in its own way

Fast as a stubbed toe signaling pain

Slow as a hard chair in a waiting room

Slippery as a half guarded look between me and you


Time is a contradiction

From its measured divides

Yet fluid enough for our mystery rides


For all of our clocks and calculations

It loops, soft pedals then rockets along

Dragging, flying and slipping away


Just when we think it’s unidirectional

A smell or a song brings us back to the past

And we’re right where we were a lifetime ago

Without ever moving an inch or an hour


Time, it seems

Answers to some other power



David Trudel    ©  2013



Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s