Saturday, February 15

As a young man, he'd never considered time
as something other than a current to bear him aloft,
propel him into his future.
But now he understood that time is a rising tide,
implacable, inexorable, unstoppable rising tide,
now at the ankles, now the knees, rising to the thighs,
and to the groin and the torso and to the chin,
ever rising, a dark water of utter mystery,
propelling us forward,
not into the future,
but into infinity,
which is
oblivion.

-From the Fossil Figures by Joyce Carol Oates
 

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