Time moves faster than thought,
though made of the same stuff.
But thought, like eyes, blinks
while time moves like the shark
ancient, never sleeping,
Constant, efficient,
Violent by nature,
Yet absent of malice
performing a service to life
with serrated rows of regenerating death.
Thought, like the eye of the tuna,
blinks again,
opens the jaw for some passing morsel of its own,
And either evades or succumbs—for now—
The throat of eternity, circling.
circling
strike.