Time’s Not
Time’s not snapshots in a flipbook
but something fluid I can stand in,
as if its waves create a drape
of Aurora Borealis I can walk through;
time’s light flowing as I turn
in the circle of my life.
From tidy pages, time
knocks the days into a pour of eons,
spins me in its shimmering curtain,
and brings my happy groan of acquiescence.
©Susa Silvermarie 2019
Long ago. Or not long, if one took the long view. Charles Frazier
Entranced by Italian poppies
