in the wake of Ozymandias

consolidated collected,
disassembled escaped;
a shuffle construction,
random displacement
and absence.

and it all swirls around,
using up time.

slate reflection pigeon perch
chimney rooftop,
glistening in morning sun,
still too bright.

small table and empty chair,
stuck in the silent instance
of a Sunday morning:
sunlight shade.

the slow unsteady grasp
of yesterday and tomorrow,
and the limbo expanse;
never quite there,
never quite real,
never quite forever.

a clock mocks,
ticking away regardless;
endless segments of nothing
and fragments of misplaced memory.

a cascading crescendo of silence
splits the moment into madness,
an echo‑ache of booming held still,
and a dull rumble of deafening calm.

in spring and summer
green and gold,
sun rises to peak
pinnacle of sky and cloud,
and beauty basks
while leaf and tree
blossom and swell.

each moment,
each fragile moment,
flits by,
lost in the nowhere forever
as ever forgotten and gone.

and monument erected
decays, crumbles,
withers to dust,
corroded with rust;
and we observe and record,
and we look on these mighty works
and despair.