Gyroscope Review 15-2 - Page 44

The Archaeology of Time by Oonah Joslin I’d stepped outside
 the day that time stood still.
 A bee in the garden was suspended mid-flight over a forget-me-not its blue face open to the deep sky.
 
 I saw the moment freeze
 the breeze break
 the shudder of all things cease.
 
 Time beneath our feet
 above our heads
 moves in us 
 through us.
 
 No shadow moved across the day
 and no leaf stirred.
 The blackbird’s beak 
 swallowed its sound
 and all around I saw 
 the bones of time
 evidence its archaeology.
 
 Time resides in mystery
 tesseracts, fractals,
 twists like a Möbius strip
 where red ants crawl
 in lemniscate. 
 
 Sound’s silenced 
 light stretched 
 the smell of death and taste 
 of long deleted stars. Gyroscope Review 37 !