Time

Even if you

carry a brick 

into the house 

and smash the clocks

or grind your Apple watch

under the heel of your boot

scoring the wood of the floor

with its face

yesterday is gone forever 

we cannot go back 

except with the 

blurred vision of memory 

like the dull lense 

of the telescope 

that I bought on eBay

beautiful but functionless

with its brass body

hammered by decades

of hardship 

tonight 

I lie in the dark room

whispering to myself 

in my skull’s cavern

to grip the fire of the future 

for the day is going to come

when the star of your being

will wink out

waste no more time 

being afraid 

of a lack of fuel

or of darkness, 

or of your own burning 

wake up 

with your hands

reaching out

to seize whatever 

is coming for you.