Thoughts frozen mid-phrase,
while happy moods turn sad.
Frozen like still-photographs of traffic signals,
all caught off, all caught dark.
A split second preserved,
like memories of people now ageless,
as we rush to catch them.
We will all be one age,
when our atoms are freed,
to be other things.
Topic(s) of this poem: atoms, death
Form: Free Verse
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.