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old father time.

I just cannot conceive
that those lords of the universe
space & gravity
would ever bend to the will
of an imaginary foe,
to accommodate the quirks of a human construct,
because, without you or I to see it,
to know it,
there is no time to lose.
a confluence of events
that happen to happen together –
no more;
we see the stars & moon & sun
and with the midwife’s slap,
our race begun
our three score years and ten mapped out
by artifice, no more.
no flags in front of my horseless carriage,
if you please,
- the flight of sound & light
subsides
without that incessant metre,
and, it seems, dear Albert, that
even you gazed too close maybe
& were blinded by the light,
for a clock does no more than this –
tick, tick, tick.