Through Time’s arches,
clean and pure.
It shimmers and shifts,
Nothing set in stone and
All is promises and suggestions of
Its mother of pearl luminescence
Slippery and scattering fragments of reflected today
It is not yet concrete.
Not yet weighty Now.
It is merely the ghost of future memories
Mirrored in yesterday’s dreams.
Lamb's (lettuce) to the slaughter?
5 days ago