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
