No Ticking Minutes

Banister, baluster, post and newel,
All calculations, curved and angled,
Mark the pitches of the stairwell.

There must be a landing somewhere
With no steps to stop a fall,
Just glide lightly by the wall
And no markings for each day
Or minute or hour anyway.

Where step by step is not a phrase
Nor a concept that is said,
Where time spreads out like ocean foam
Across a sand of countless grain
On tides where there’s no cycle gained.

2 Responses to No Ticking Minutes

  1. Pingback: Ocean Poems | Poetry by Don Segal

  2. Pingback: Inquiries and Observations on “Being Here” | Poetry by Don Segal

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