Some say the world was shook like a timepiece on its side
What’s that called again?
drifting, falling sand in a time thingy?
It doesn’t matter. Words don’t matter.
In the mornings, I’ve watched the birds
I hear their screeches calls pitches as if nothing’s changed.
It is not forever in a moment
It is only shifting sand. I lose words.
Words take their own meandering path.
Words, at a loss.
Picked up by birds
I will watch
Shifting, falling sand in an hourglass.
Oh, Thank God! That’s the word – hourglass.
I thought I’d lost it.
Shifted, shook untimed time in an hourglass beyond the sun when the dawn or dusk swoops like sand
timeless time in a moment. Now.