one week by Nate Moss
five days until my past has too far come
the time to leave approaches
ever nearer
closer closer
far too close
to pretend
nothing amiss

five future days and then a flash
while neurons fire and
past it zips
away

five nothing days they fly past
as endless hours
minutes far longer
seconds too slow to count

and five days future
becomes five days past

and i am gone
five future days ago
my intermiable intervening seconds
have jumped somewhere to our right
turning to search
we are gone
forgotten
in our own five days'

memory


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