Nothing can be lost by taking time.”

– Abraham Lincoln


Time is nothingness

and this should allow

me to take any transport


I want. And I will not

hurry in hot haste nor

will I look to time


as a challenger,

or to you who rushed

to that train


thinking you were late.

The moon was falling,

tripping over your bags,


and I was wanting

to say you were not late,

that the train would come


again and again

like a dream of falling,

like a star


fish regrowing its arms.

And my arms and time

are nothingness and that


should allow you to take

them in your own time,

deliberately, like boarding


a train you know you want,

with a solid name, a destination

stamped on the front.



First published in the American Poetry Review, July 2013