Poem: Burning Time

What words burn the tip of time’s arrow
shot from the height of the last morrow?
When did you stop watering the bonsai?
Was it after her leaves had turned brown?
When heat brings chaos, time must follow;
where would the final fire make you go?
When all of you have been swallowed up,
where and how should I store your ashes?
Where would time for two be true as one
despite distance, detours and demands?
Where did you take me when I was three?
Was it you, or me, or us who were free?
Inspired by The Order of Time by Carlo Rovelli

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