Poem #121 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie.
Back to Bachelard and me – Introduction
is it only now
that I am
alive
what was I
yesterday
one forlorn cell in a movie
played backward and forward
and over and over
rewound
degraded
just a small amount
with each replay
what will I be
tomorrow
a will-o-the-wisp
a phantom
almost solid
almost real
but
changing
a chimera
with every glimpse
only now
only now
I
am alive
© Frank Prem 2018
Bachelard and me Poem #122: the time traveler reflects
Frank Prem Poetry 
Great! 🙂
Just be sure that that now isn’t a contamination of the past’s protrusions.
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I have good intentions, at least, Tom.
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Now! Ah…..the intriguing process of thinking about time and being. Be-ing!
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Yes indeed, Anne. AN amazing contemplation that is beyond me, by and large. Little thoughts, though, make for profound ideas.
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