a tock (with dali)

Poem #174 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie.

Back to Bachelard and me – Introduction


time
that melts
like French soft cheese

molding seconds
minutes
hours

every toc
and every tic
to slide
seamlessly
into the wall

time
stuck like an adhesive
to hold up
the passing moments

time
that cannot maintain
its shape
instead
showing the signs
of a fade
into age

time
I recall you well

you are not the same
somehow
you seem a little
faster

I am slow

time
my old pocket-watch
had a button
that I could twirl
that I could
turn
to restart

gone

time
alas the sun of days
has melted you
to blend
one fragment
into the next

and I recall
again
but still
I do not know
your name


© Frank Prem 2018

Bachelard and me Poem #175: introvert medicine

 

15 thoughts on “a tock (with dali)

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