My Time

I can feel
The
Sweep of the hands
On
A time, time has forgotten.
In its movement forward, it leaves all the past
Far behind.
Today was yesterday’s tomorrow, and when
Tomorrow arrives it becomes today.
I can’t forget
The past that holds you
Because every day’s tick finds its way to today.
Today, in time, yesterday and tomorrow assemble in unison,
As all time becomes one in you.
You wind the clock, setting the sweep of hands,
That moves me.