In the Late Hour

Poetry by Alexander Etheridge

Look, everything is moving so
quickly, it seems still—
In a short time, this
will be a long time ago.
Vast cities and whole
deserts are vanishing
without an echo.
Lifetimes pass
in the split-second before we wake.
Too late was
yesterday—right now
is gone into
dim memory, swifter
than a welder’s spark.
Look,
it’s already happened,

you and I
are lost
to another age.

Alexand…