This poem expresses my sense of time since I have retired from an 8-5 job. It has been reinforced by COVID. I only venture out of the house to buy groceries and to pick up take out food. While I stay busy these days with this new business, my time is my own in a new way.

Time Without Edges

Time without edges
         washing over
without boundaries
Surging
Retreating
An ocean of rhythm
Marked only by … a familiar coastline of
daytime and moontime
celebrations
appointments
Passing through
A glimpse of
centuries past
future forms
punctuated nows
Churning together
Undistinguishable except for the edges of the shore
From one now to another
Fluid
Not anchored
I’m floating through.