MOVING FORWARD
Richard Fein
Now it's called a chronograph.
No longer
will grandpa pull a golden circle from his pocket,
flip the lid open
and magically tell me it's an hour before bed.
More precise today.
Moments are measured in flashes,
each flash a second, and always the present second.
Now the hours are faceless.
Gone, like grandpa,
are the hands that open and close by degrees.
Only the present pulses before my eyes.
Progress, of course,
and progress is linear, and good, but deceptive.
Good,
why else would new so quickly replace old?
Deceptive,
for time really does move in circles
and winds down.