Suppose Two Clocks

To remain here, I assume a curve
along which my body moves, reaching
for sunlight. The day is liquid
hurrying across my path. In the shadows,
beneath my eyes, fixed stars move in a circle.
It isn’t clear what can be understood.

There is no dilemma today, nothing
disappears. The minutes are insensible
of life spans, the hours unconcerned
with decay. Suppose two clocks
of identical construction are placed
on the wind: a moment might be compared

to a juncture that no longer exists,
there is nothing more. I assume this
and imagine two mirrors, so arranged
upon vanished eyes as to reflect
a dilemma: these are the clocks, perfectly situated
at their origins, in view of a structure

of passed days, the relative motion
of fixed stars, absorbed energy, ourselves
wrapped in a delicacy of detail, an unspoken word
filtered from the things that happen
each day. This must be so, this is reasonable:
time clutches nothing. Only now.