It held my gaze with new eyes
at least to mine
Over the years I had seen
in dreams and mirrors
how Time could personify itself
into a wealth of shapes and sizes
clichés and surprises
Like an apple, or an old man leaning on a crutch,
the hooded skeleton with a cold hand, or a bunch
of keys, an hour glass, draining away its sand
- some easy, some not so easy to understand
But this time Time came to me
as a calf puzzled by its weak legs
licking its own blood off