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

 

 

 

 

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