Poetry / Poets

From Time by Christopher Hivner

The heavens circle me,
a shimmering salutation
from time,
a friend when it wants to be,
an enemy when I’m not paying attention.
The past rotates over my head
flinging light at me
like accusations
but they don’t attach,
my dalliances with the future
form a breakwater
keeping the contraction of my bones
to a minimum.
The stars, the light, the past,
in rotation
spinning a story from time.

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