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Time is no straight line,
it is a serpent
crossing the room sideways
like a glance.
It burns rubber
careening
around every corner
tossing irony,
like bits of confetti
into our pockets.
Time dances a circle
around the fire of desire
then churns out to sea
on a wave of kelp,
unraveling one dream
weaving another.
It flip flops
in crazy eights,
bounces like a rubber ball
on a hot sidewalk
reflecting all angles
oblique and acute
but always right.
At its best
time is a spiral
lifting our vision
and at the end
it shrinks into a dot
in the palm of our hand,
and with one breath
it blows us away
into the heart of forever.
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© 2014, 2017 Betty Hayes Albright
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