You think I am fast?
You do not know.
I am slow. I am then.
I am yet and soon.

Measure my steps
with shade. The sun
tells the years
in the stone I own

but I do not end
except for you.
Except for you
I did not begin.

Wound or
it is one: I win.
Watch my hands spin.

Helena Nelson

If you have any thoughts on this poem, Helena Nelson would be pleased to hear them.