Time is constant. Determined mathematically,
a fundamental dimension.
Time zones and watches set. Seconds tick by.
But can time be relative? Can it have voids?
Does time stop, race ahead, appear, disappear?
Can it be measured differently?
Through distance, visual changes, mental acuity,
ambulatory ability, skin texture, hair color.
Can it be lost in sepia toned photo collections
missing documentation of a generation?
Obituaries, birth announcements
perennial blooms, seasonal shifts.
Age appropriate gifts packed away,
idioms of the day, skirt lengths
and medical advancements –
all measurements of time.
Time gifted me memories.
Stripped me of loved ones and muscle tone.
Encouraged gratitude and forgot rebuffs.
My mind often dreams at night. I am the ingenue
leaping freely across the divide of time.
At sunrise I awaken, stand up, bend down,
groan a bit, shove dry cracking feet
into well worn slippers. Shuffle to the coffee pot.
Time keeps ticking and I’m still in the parade.
Who knows what’s round the next bend?
Time ticks one tock at a time, or does it?
All we can do is lean in.



Written for Tuesday Poetics at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe.
Today Mish asks us to consider the literary devise of juxtaposition. She writes
“the contrast between subjects, settings, ideas or moods not only highlights their differences but can also uncover unexpected similarities or connections.” One example she provides is from Dickens in Tale of Two Cities: “It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. It was the age of wisdom. It was the age of foolishness.”
In addition, Mish provides us with a series of images. We are to choose two (I’ve chosen three) that we “feel could create a contrast” and then “use them as a foundation to build your poem.”
I must add here, lest you wonder. This is not all me in this poem. I’m still kicking up my heels, traveling, enjoying family and life with the love of my life.

that 2nd verse encapsulates all measures of time – its a wonderful list of ticking our lives away but even so the poet manages an uptick at the end:
” Shuffle to the coffee pot.Time keeps ticking and I’m still in the parade.”
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My daughter has always called me a Pollyanna….as in one who always looks at the glass as half-filled. Harder to do these days with the political scene…but so much to also be joyful over 🙂
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what an accolade!
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I love where your choice of images took you, Lill, philosophical and a poem I can identify with. Lots of questions to ponder in the first two stanzas; I love the thought that time can be ‘lost in sepia toned photo collections / missing documentation of a generation’. I also love ‘I am the ingenue / leaping freely across the divide of time’ – you captured the image beautifully here.
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Thank you, Kim! I had written this poem over the weekend….at least a version of one. And then the prompt came with the images and it all blended together!I must add though, as my note does, at 79, I still am “in the parade” and enjoying all the marching and the music involved in the parade 🙂
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You’re welcome, Lill.
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A stunning analysis of time and the way it contradicts itself. A beautiful flow and I especially like the placement of these whimsical lines that made me pause…
“My mind often dreams at night. I am the ingenue leaping freely across the divide of time.”
This has to be one of my favourites of yours, Lillian!!
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A beautiful exploration of our relationship with time…great imagery and emotion like in these lines, “Time gifted me memories.
Stripped me of loved ones and muscle tone.
Encouraged gratitude and forgot rebuffs.
My mind often dreams at night. I am the ingenue”
Well done! 🩵
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“Does time stop, race ahead, appear, disappear?
Can it be measured differently?”
poignant question, are there answers?
much love
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A leap of faith, yet one step at a time.
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Lilian great piece – it reads like a lyrical essay, shifting from cold physics to the tender reality of getting older 🙌
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Very nicely done, Lillian. Time is a conundrum it seems.
Time keeps ticking and I’m still in the parade.
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Interesting piece. I like it! A good look at time and use of the images.
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All measurements of time. Time gifted me memories.
All goes to show time moves, progress forward and and leave everything in its wake an archive of the good or bad. Great poem Lillian!
Hank
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A fabulous musing on time, Lillian. “Time gifted me memories. Stripped me of loved ones and muscle tone. Encouraged gratitude and forgot rebuffs.” –this especially spoke to me. Loved your closing lines, too. ❤
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I like the idea of one tock at a time 👍 Nice write Lillian 👏
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Amazing that you wrote the prompts before they published the photos..A precognitive poem!
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I love your reflection on time Lillian.
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