Time moves on

The clock moves on.

The second hand revolves

A steady movement through the day,

The week, the year, the decade.

At length the rock is dust.

The tree is earth.

Seeds shoot and grow

Again.

As ever, heat and rain drift.

Brick, concrete, rises, falls, where stone once stood.

The clock moves on.

A trench is dug to shelter guns

Or children

And look, a Saxon sword is there.

How long before that hole throws out

A wheelchair plus its occupant?