a philosophy of fragile times

 

Audio recording by Frank of:  a philosophy of fragile times.


when he turned the hourglass
the sand ran up
as he knew it would

deep contemplation
so often turns life
on its head

the flame only rises
while the taper
melts down

in the end
there is black wick
in a wax pool

melted into a soft light
that was
for a little while

the level of the sand
is rising

some kind of time
is running up
running out

lapsing

some kind of life
is over

with a flicker
like a puff
of soft breath
the sound of the sand
departs

the glass is full
and the darkness
clings to a shape
that once upon
an hourglass
held
a taper


© Frank Prem 2018

Bachelard and me Poem #193: math storm

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