James Nichols

A minute here, an hour there,
in time it´s all the same.
When you have no more to spare
you simply rearrange the frame.

Pretend tomorrow´s yesterday.
Suspend the hours for a minute.
In your window will sunlight stay
just to keep the day within it?

Don´t fall for art´s deception
where clocks run until they melt.
It´s the difference of perception
in what is seen and what is felt.

In time you´ll come to treasure
what you can´t touch or taste or see.
For it´s what you guard and measure
that you cannot ever flee.