“Time is not linear,”
they say with smug aplomb,
as they strut the platform
amid little Einsteins, so sure
of a bending universe
riddled with holes
both black and wormy,
neither relatively this
nor that in quantum terms,
with their emcee still equal
to E when squared,
and their probability
just theoretical at best,
thus they wait the hours
for the train of Tomorrow.
And I, having boarded
at Yesterday,
peer into the darkness
beyond the tracks,
content to wave
as I pass through Today.
Line count: 21
Free verse
For The Writer’s Cramp, 06.23.22
Prompt: Goodbye yesterday.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.20 seconds at 8:24pm on Sep 07, 2024 via server web1.