Time Traveler

My cloak is woven starlight, bending

time and light and memory–

a recollection of origins, place, kith and kin

that were and are, but are no more.

Mnemosyne, mother of the Muses

cradles me and whispers in my ear.

Get up! It is time to move on.

One thought on “Time Traveler

  1. I think about time travel a lot, and your cloak imagery is inspiring- like an invisibility cloak, but so much more!

    I love the alliteration in this line”Mnemosyne, mother of the Muses”

    maybe use even more in this poem?

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