Out Of Time

Somewhere, a road without end
To a book
With no final page,
Where flowers pose
In perpetual bloom
Or bud
Or decay
And the minutes
Won’t become hours
Or the hours
Muster a day

Where a shadowless child
Pulls the sun as a balloon
As she steps between the stars
Forever falling
Forever still
In the music,
In the movement,
Of no duration.

Kevin Harlow

By Kevin Harlow


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