Viral Time. A poem by Valerie Trant

Lake playing liq
uid air beg
inning or end
ing some
where bet
ween wind or
water or
Us. Swept up.
The under
water wind
plays on
and we fly
or flow and
Walls fall
crash (water
air and
seconds lash)
Time sunders
without thunder
Years are
hours and
all is now

Reeds, Leaves, Breeze, Being.


I am a mother and optometrist who, sitting by the lake with my daughter recently, realised that an hour of “viral” time seemed to fit in an “oldtime|” year’s worth of sensory experiences!

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