“It’s about time”
About time… for what?
“It’s about time, this time, it’s about time”
Eliot said as he cracked open a stone, carved by some moments,
polished by others,
and put it down.
Time? .
..
I checked the time,
as it was time,
for time to change.
But it had not.

Any second now

Any day,

Any year
now

Pinned to the wall
Desperate for a tick that
I had not known,
Was no time at all

Until it ticks I was hanging
Dead look locking life looking to turn
Away, for fear of turning
To stone the very moment
The look comes to life

From his chair Eliot took a sip of air, looked me in the eye
“not more than once, upon a time,