Apex predator

*A glosa is a form that pays tribute to another poet. It borrows lines from his or her poem to end each stanza of the glosa’s four 10-line stanzas. 

 

Rubbing its back upon the window panes ;

There will be time, there will be time

To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet ;

There will be time to murder and create.

            -T. S. Eliot, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

 

In its heart it holds

stolen moments.

Streams of seconds

run through its veins,

muscles of minutes

wrapped around hollow bones.

It stretches, falling

like shadow over ancient stones

prowls carelessly, leaving smudges and stains,

Rubbing its back upon the window panes. 

 

Quietly stalks

sheltered in silence,

a kind of muted violence

In darkness it steals minutes

tears seconds from life

like flesh from bone

in its greed takes hours,

even days months and years

Always invisible, Time

is appetite and crime.

There will be time, there will be time

 

Creates rifts

in lives, leaves

skeletal memories

fragile fragments

of remembrance

people staring at their feet,

misunderstanding and Time hanging

between them like a wall.

Time, insufficient, ever incomplete

To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet ;

 

In a cruel twist of fate

it stands still

claws retracted,

curls up in a corner

suddenly sedate

leaving life

stuck on repeat

awaiting the end

so make your choices choose your fate

There will be time to murder and create.

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