Poetry | Chronos

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C H R O N O S

(c) 2023 by Vernon Miles Kerr and VernonMilesKerr.com

Time seems a river,
An eternal, fluid flow,
Toward the edge of all that is,
Where it plunges into depths beyond human ken.

Time seems infinitely divisive:
We film nanoscopic slices of it —
But it cannot be stretched nor hurried.

Neither can it be stopped nor reversed.
Like the tortoise of old,
Time stubbornly takes its own “time”

But, staid in its ways as it is,
It will persist as long as matter does.
Einstein said it — the two are linked.
Without one we cannot have the other.
No matter: no time.

It’s no matter,

Maybe its really “matter”
Which plunges over the edge

Taking Time with it.

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