Maybe it's because I just read A Garden of Forking Paths, but I've written a few poems about time recently.
To My Older Self
Perhaps you have forgotten
What it is like to be me.
If you say, "I had no worries,
I was always happy and carefree,"
Then you have forgotten
What it is like to be a teen
And resort to expressing yourself
In terms of poetry.
Eternity
'Could I but ride indefinite,'
And never have to die
And never lose the joy of night-time
The moon and starry sky.
'Could I but ride indefinite,'
But then I'd never know
If the streets are really paved with gold
Or if I could see the world below.
'Could I but ride indefinite,'
And never this world lose,
Would my friends stay immortal with me?
I'm glad I cannot choose!
The Past
Some days I feel I must be
A woman of days of old
For don't I reach to grasp my skirts
And of naught but air take hold?