In time - in time of time
in the nick of time
time flies - time dies
everyone counts the seconds
the minutes the hours
the days the months the years
until there is not time left
-
that is not a surprise but
what is - is that time and time
again and never and forever
it sometimes slows
it sometimes speeds
il is a whirligig - a foss
of running velvety cold chills
or a slithering snaky lukewarm
tired lake - sunbaked of course
-
on a keyboard or when reading
it flies away to far aways
it lingers in the deep presens
trying to write a poem
not with new thoughts just
to whelp of a timeless task
so for each line of this hologram
it represents a hour of a day
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