Nauita Tempus Poem by Kurt Philip Behm

Nauita Tempus



Our past is never
where its left,
the tide always returns

Those things unsaid
not put to bed,
like butter still unchurned

Returning once
returning twice,
its power built on fear

To undermine
those things adrift
—till anchored yesteryear

(The New Room: March,2022)

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