Time
reflects in the carving of a deep canyon
by a river.
Time
reflects in the blooming and fruiting
and endless overgrowth
that makes the trail disappear.
Time
reflects in the ebb and the flow
of the tides, the rise and the fall
of kelp.
Time
ticks away second after second
flips fast the pages of the calendar,
flows by, as the river
washes the stones smooth.
Time
passes over the young
bringing wrinkles and gray hairs
and naked bones to plant
in the earth.
Time
has never slipped away.
It is always present.
Time
slips away forever,
even as it stays.