some say time is a block -
a finished work,
not full on one side of the present and empty on the other -
all causes and effects are settled -
except the causeless first cause
and the effectless final cause
we worm our way through time
like a worm chomps through an apple,
rather than building a future along time's arrow
This entry was posted in poem, Poetry and tagged poem, poetry, time by B Gourley. Bookmark the permalink.
