Posted by in Poems on Aug 11, 2013

Across a frozen lake in Norway once

I watched a man on skis

come out of the snowy distance;

the rhythm of a spider


on a table cloth, inscrutable;

the only moving thing

in the colourless landscape:

and all of time stood still.


Along a quiet street in Burbank once

I watched a girl on a skateboard,

with the melancholy, private

poise of a nun, pass


the sprinklers and parked cars,

the lemon trees and carob trees:

and all of time stood still.


Silently they passed out of sight,

and time slowly groaned into motion

to receive them.