George David Clark

Temporarily Eternal

No more books or music

for tonight,


and nothing new

on cable, nothing to clean


or cook or suffer through.

Just sighs between


the minutes as this white

typhoon of moonlight


tries to shake the room

and all that’s right


within it. The clock face

wears a sheen


of secrecy so bright

I start to lean


into the breeze

each second makes in flight.


In other words,

I let the evening whet


my tired shoulders



I feel the hours cinch,

and carefully


remove my watch

along with all its debts.


It isn’t like me

not to flinch, and yet


I’m still: eternal,





“Temporarily Eternal” first appeared in The New Criterion, vol. 35, no. 6, 2017.