Bridging

Ah, Time!

"Ah, Time!" she exhaled.
"Yes. Time", I sighed, but in scale,
much like a son by mother.

She bewailing lost trails
of alternate loves
many decades by,

me too, but finding myself seated
at the whole show,
palimpsest wish in mind,

the ego rolling on somehow
gloriously, within its crackling leaves;

as if I saw that elf in her
that danced within my mother.

..................

This at 18.

Is not

My love is not
now and never
shall be touches

upon touches,

as tides turn
stones to grit
stars at sunslip.

Strange fliers,
alien clouds,
are not still

as she stands.

I can not
move heart beats
to mean time.