Time, the Cocoon

Time, the cocoon enveloping our lives

Enmeshed in its horizon we fail

To detect its viscous opacity


Trapped in its amber we harden

Our limbs like stick insects

Groping the dark


Memory in the once

Limber joints

Lies merciless in ambush


As the Dura Mater whips

Blood from the brain

To the heart, the plaque


Of words and ghosts

Sticks to the artery

Silencing the mouth


Throwing wide open the gates

To past and present rivulets

Undauntedly merging.


Pina Piccolo, Fall equinox 2023


Cover image by Engin Akyurt