I am an object

I am an object

Of impermanence

Invisible

Hidden away

Beneath lowered eyes

When I can’t see you

Then you can’t see me

If I turn about

Three times

Perhaps the day will restart

The moon will bear witness

To a call of nature

The clock will rewind

The mirror will do no more

Than reflect

What it sees

Perhaps it is me

Cracks will not appear

In daylight

The sun

Will rise

Perhaps from a different angle

Unless it is subsidence

The sky

Has been falling

Closer to the edge

Of disorder

If the cock crows

Before morning

The day

Will turn tail

Beating its own retreat

Before truth will out

And I will have lost

My place

In the queue

With nary the ghost

Of a chance

Of permanence.