Whenever I try to describe time
without reference to time, I find myself
with my hand inside a jar, grasping
a large and succulent red fruit.
It is cool and smooth to the touch,
and its smell is tantalizing;
but the mouth of the jar is too small to permit
the removal of both my hand and the fruit.
Zeno’s paradox proves only
that a moment is infinitely thin.
Slice it how you will:
with a blade sufficiently keen,
there is always another slice.
The earth shakes with the approach
of a lumbering dinothere.
In a moment it will be upon me,
but I must have just one bite;
I can taste it already.
A hard enough pull will surely release it.
Just one more second, and I will have it...
November 10, 1998
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