Time

Poem By ...C Cleverly

A breath caught as a drop.
Caught as bejewelling dew
on frozen twigs, cold and dead:
what's breath was water was ice.
Melted prayers before rising god.
So it begins. So it ends
So it ends. So it begins.
A hallelujah of drops
frozen for a moment before
drowning in soil
or caught in the geometry
of ice cracked puddles.
An infinity caught in a history
written by that criminal - Time.

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