by George Perreault

a palindrome it’s called
a tick tock keeping time
or is that something else

you know an hourglass
is worse than swirl when
just an empty skull remains

i walk and walk and seems
any trail will take me home
or strangers point the way

though standing on the cliff
a spray of downward thought
was all that kept me here

but if a meteor flew hissing
oh straight the hand of god
such quickness daily pray