Archimedes’ Lever – A Poem by Rowe Williams

Time settles on a day,
a focal point of creation,
and roosts like a fat

hen. It slows, as events
gather speed, momentum, the
inertia of a river

wearing a stone smooth.
Time comes to rest, sky-heavy,
on a self-made Atlas.

That titan, imprisoned by fate,
sags under the weight and weeps
for the burden he must carry

alone. The loneliness
of eternity holds him in
its cold womb. And he

wonders numbly why he chose
this. Or why this chose him.
A thief begs forgiveness.

And he remembers.

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