THE SECRET OF TIME MEETS A STRANGER
You look familiar.
Were you once my mother?
My child that slept through the Ice Age?
That song you were whistling—
where did you learn it?
Time passes, but the past will not stay behind,
and the future keeps rushing back
in search of a button it lost in the mist.
Who can say if it is better to wind up a clock
than to wind up a mammal?
In Newton’s day, time was seen as an arrow.
The arrow turned into a river.
The river stopped at a diner.
I’m there now, drinking a cup of coffee, writing a poem
called “The Secret of Time Meets a Stranger.”
Somehow, I always knew you would come.
