Lost Time

By: Bradley Nordell

Who are we but words

Bleached torn jeans poets

Addicts washed up along a shore

Old hippies counting crows

Seashell remembrances

Dust bowls and days of old

Lost time in empty romances.

Worlds swept by lonely street light cities

Bled under wooden bridge creaking

Instruments out of tune and daylight

Fading before noon. Those green skies

Before the thunder and twisters

Before the olden days. We wonder

As lost time takes our youth away

Sitting in the dusk of truth counting

Stars of no more.

Cosmic strings that play at nothing

Gifts opened by no one

Jokes cackling at mad mutterings

Lenses peering beyond infinity

Mirrors a heart’s true form

Withered and waiting

Silently debating the ways

of moonlit curses.

Do you hear it cawing?

Lost time brings mourning

To the one that misses you

To the one that write poetry

In hopes to bring back

The fading hands of the clock

In hopes to resurrect the dead

From the verse.

Lost time

O! Lost time

Entropy unwinds

Empty waves crashing

Amongst the light house

Clock guiding mariners

Of soul, into the harbors

A wander’s remorse.

And do you not see,

I miss you as the twilight beckons

And I sleep, dreaming

of those days we played

in the cornfields and prairies

dreaming of those moments

as we watched the flicking

emerald light of fireflies in

a darkened July night.

---

Born in Omaha, NE, Bradley is a scientist, fiction writer, and poet. His writings are published in Scribe,

Assemblage, SciFi Shorts: Anthology Vol.1, The Embrace of Dawn, and Reservoir Road Literary Review. His 

first book, The Second Sky and Other Stories, will be out in 2023. He works as a physicist for a space solar cell 

company. He is the editor of Consilience Journal, a peer-reviewed science-poetry journal, a nature photographer

a birder, and a TEDx Speaker. Bradley lives in Albuquerque, New Mexico, with his dog Eiseley and two cats, Nova and Tesla.