Like little butterfly winks
As wings lift upward and fly away
Slowly disappear innocently
And
Blink
And there are sweeps of time
Erupting like land mines
Dream crimes
Little thieves that creep in and steal
Away steal away until little remains but a
Sweep
And there are gushes of time
Like raging rivers meeting and greeting
Two colours in a canyon of blending
Silt and clear raging into a milk of
Gush
But no matter what
Time time time
It continues on keeping
Rhythm Rhyme
To some unknown
Song
A metronome that sits beside me
Held tightly
By metaphor grinds
No matter what
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