Poems of Lighthouse Bob

Passage through the Hourglass #288



Passage through the Hourglass


The corridor between the silent hands
which spun with myr-i-ads of molten sand
that flowed back equal increments of time
held many doors through many walls
that lead to countless many halls
where many stairs remained
on which to climb
and I had not the time…
…and I had not the time
to look behind each mystic door
and as-cer-tain which walls or floors
would bring me here to where I am at last
a phantom with some inkling of my past
peering pointless at this hourglass.


Lighthouse Bob





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Passage through the Hourglass #288

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