Time Poem by r james sterzinger

Time:
No harbinger of anything.
The brook rounds the rock.
gravity bends the old man like grass
who chooses which stars are spit
out of their orbit?

Time:
Not the teller of secrets
just a witness to everything that passes:
stares, despairing looks, evil eyes.

Time:
everything is hollow with you.
My Mother used to say, "In time..."
but she is gone. "... before her time."
they say. They also said, "Time will heal
the grief". It is what they said....

Time:
I am surprised to find myself another year older.
moving slower, less sure of my sense of self:
"Losing my marbles"
as they say.

Time:
has an element of surprise,
like finding a pressed flower
in an old book
like a poet who's craft

with time has sailed

away.