1. Each second lasts a week, the toc tic trembles
    for a day through the earth. This earth falling
    between my fingers. The garden is my hourglass.
    Leaves stretch, a flower opens and folds.
    A breath. A season.

    Peaceful trees, branches meeting, so far away.
    Will I ever reach you? I can fly, arms reaching,
    sugar glider sails, flying upward, spiralling.
    Exhilaration, air and adrenalin, but time still
    pins me in place. Intractable dimension.


Comments are closed.