Time Travel
A thin trail of smoke rises from his discarded pipe. A stark shadow falls from his hat brim, as he leans into the beam of light. He clasps his hands together and rests them on the desk top. From behind him you hear the creak of leather shoes, as the wearer shifts his unseen bulk. You imagine what you cannot see under that brim. Piercing, merciless eyes, focussed on you. They measure you, calculating. Wooden groans echo as the stateroom moves with the tide. The hand on your shoulder attempts a reassuring squeeze. Then the Captain clears his throat…
“But the fact remains
time travel limits opportunity.
How?
I hear you ask.
Let us say
the birds sing
and the sun shines,
and your true love
holds your hand.
Well you’d alter time
if you possibly could,
to keep this
cherished love grand.
But you just
may well
put at risk
Destiny’s master plan.
For when this love
did end
you’d earn your reward,
a prize so dear
and sweet.
The understanding
and consuming passion
of a brilliant flame,
who now, you’ll
never meet.”
Copyright © Scott Thirtyseven | Year Posted 2015
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