Roberta Gould

It was a general conversation about finding 
and losing, climbing and falling,
dusking and dawning Yet it was more
The air invisible to us
was replete with creatures
the flies could see
The hands of the clock were no longer there
a flashing and beeping surpassed the centuries
every once in a while

As the river flowed on we didn’t step in
watched from a millennial hill
unwilling to keep wheeling along