Read Poems by
by Odin Roark
When time travels,
Does the clock wonder
As it watches us watch it moving?
Does it see us gaze at numbers
Like forgotten memories in orbit,
A chronicle of yesterday’s journeys?
As time travels,
Our glances recall impetuous youth,
A gathering disdain for aging,
And hopeful resolve when we are old.
When time is traveling,
Why do we watch precise starts and stops,
Question ourselves of distance and time,
Preoccupy our minds with an end game?
Perhaps it’s because…
Clocks are made to travel,
Counting down the intervals we create,
The personal vacuums of measured life,
And ever increasing awareness of death.
All the while…
Existence remains infinite,
When one to twelve travels,
It is but by man’s limiting invention.