Time’s Arrow

Merciless, time watches over our abject forms,
And steals lovely night with break of day.
It tempts with burned images that swim in brief ecstasy and are lost,
Our memory a shoddy palimpsest of battling desires and warring ideas.
The stacked moments of a brief universe stretch out for us to perceive,
And yet, for all of our trials and troubles,
We would not bare it to be any other way.

© Phil Corbluth