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A Book of Hours
This poem came to me after a visit to London, where I was thunderstruck by the scale and beauty of the restored Reading Room at the British Museum. I was also wrestling with Existentialism at the time.
A Book of Hours
There was Time when its Arrow
flowed like a ticking clock
as it carved the future from the past
like a blind sculptor in one dimension
...
Saturday 14th January 2017 12:32 pm
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