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Time Capsule

This is a flag planted in territory I could not hope to control.
A buoy dropped in space that will never be sighted again.
A desperate note protected by a fragile bottle in the fathomless oceans.

Why does a craftsman labor to build an instrument that he knows cannot possibly function?

I have no answer, though I must be driven by that same force as I vainly attempt to tether time.

14 April 2021

Copyright © J. I. Thomas F.

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