like the slow/fast paced ticking of a film
    silently going by
why question the moving of the clock?

but I just want to hold it all back.
    to stop the hands from making their inexorable slights
    and fooling us all
by coming round again (never letting us in on the joke)

if I could hold back the hands,
    i would,
      like joshua on the battlefield,
        stop the sun from falling.

oh, my dear,
  may mercy, without fear, carry you
  wherever you
may go.
© rlb 2015

Up next: mon coeur