Friday, December 30, 2011

Between



deep in the glen of winter
somewhere between this year
and that, a quiet chuckling
as clever time and stream
mock the fury of man
and permanence of rock
the joke they share
takes forever to tell
but there's no hurry

~ ralph murre

1 comment:

London Accountant said...

I like the way you play with time in this poem - 'somewhere between this year / and that' - a kind of dismissiveness that's restated in the tone of the joke being told with no hurry, the quiet lower case letters, contrasted with the permanence of 'forever' which really ground the poem in deep time while at the same time making a joke of time itself.