the stars
are hands
that mark
the hours
the span
of those
that time
devours
a
mechanistic
counting
wheel
parsing
us
without
appeal
a blink
an age
a lifetime
spent
an
interval
of
wonderment
of seasons
changing,
passing
by
of stars
still spinning
in the
sky
the stars
are hands
that mark
the hours
the span
of those
that time
devours
a
mechanistic
counting
wheel
parsing
us
without
appeal
a blink
an age
a lifetime
spent
an
interval
of
wonderment
of seasons
changing,
passing
by
of stars
still spinning
in the
sky