The Alchemist of Time

I am a dreamer reflected in a gazing globe, never far from the moon.

The Alchemist of Time

 

The Alchemist of Time

is thrumming in my blood

slowing down

a clock

I never knew was overwound.

I’d like to keep my dross

as I grow old,

but the Alchemist of Time

has drawn a cross

and told

me–my life is not my own–

She stirs me in a beaker made of glass

heated by the most

remorseless

Bunsen burner—flare and jet of gas–

I am a drifting veil of steam

evaporating

Into the final light of gold.

-Sandrina Eugenius