Time And Space Poem by RIC BASTASA

space is like an eggwhite
enclosing a
yellow yolk of this
chicken egg,

time grows and becomes
the chick

and it may become a hen or a rooster
but there is this element
of growing up which we call time,

time too dies, like that rooster
ran-over by a car,

the car is fate, and
fate is always acceptable as a
comfortable explanation,

the explanation becomes
your key and you switch it on
to make things move

time moves, and this time
becomes the key that strikes
the ignition to make the engine move and so

and the engine becomes your life,
and your life moves to places and travels on events of history
and sees the strips of a film of trees and post
streamlining your forehead
against a glass window

but your life can be so stagnant inside
a prison, this emptiness and this hollow space

becomes your garage, you stay put
you refuse to be free
and you are the door with lock and key.

there are many more, but this
time, time becomes so short, like

a yelping puppy.