& these chords run dry for a time
"it's ok, child, life can't go on stand by"
a man in a chair in an empty library
smokes his cigarette & reads from his favorite lines
the dust settles & the clock hums the hours
into his ears & brain & heart
he becomes time
something of a fading moment
an instant that was just an instant that becomes an instant
passing into another instant
he sits, time itself, knowing he will be better in the future