Let Great Wings Descend

Morning and evening clocks constrict the day.
If time must be measured measure it by when
The blue heron’s shadow darkens the bay.

Do not appoint an hour in which to play
At work or work at love, sleep or wake again—
Morning and evening clocks will thin your day.

Let the hissing sand of hourglasses stay
Silent, turn to stone. Let great wings descend.
Watch the heron’s shadow play on the bay.

The dark estates of night will always lay
Under the ticking pulsars’ sway. Why, then,
Let morning and evening clocks rule the day?

Tides are not channeled by time’s narrow strait.
Their slow dance with the moon fully depends
On how the heron’s shadow stains the bay.

So laugh aloud and saunter on your way
Until you can no longer apprehend
How morning and evening clocks strangle days.
Follow the heron’s shadow down the bay.

About John MacKenzie

I'll mumble for ya. Poetry, plus most things quantifiable: science, neuroscience, memory, epistemology, baseball. And so on.
This entry was posted in Astrophysics, Blue Heron, Cosmology, Epistemology, John MacKenzie, Language, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, The Moon, The Sea, The Sky, Tide, Time and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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