The sundial misses the hour.
So, what.
Clocks lie too.
Shadows hesitate,
but hesitation
is still movement.
The woman tracing her coffee rim
isn’t lost —
she’s sketching a coastline
that might yet exist.
And the kite,
slack in the sky,
still holds colour.
Even fading,
it insists on being seen.
.
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Author:
crypticbard (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: September 26th, 2025 05:02
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 29
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange, Friendship
Offline)
Comments3
A poem of perceptions where time bends, and colors fade but all must be seen in one form or another. A thought provoking write my friend
Rock on, Rik! This feels alive in its quiet defiance. The clock, the shadow, the kite…each image refuses to be dismissed. It’s subtle, but it keeps pushing forward. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛ A fave!
Those things are always in our life for us to ponder about Rik.
Andy
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