Every day ties another knot
In the net, and I haven’t got
An instruction book, or a thought

Which coaxes to loosening.
Time will unbind. Or the ending
Of time might mean unwinding.

The night angles shut like a lid.
The day collapses, is elided
Into a mesh of what I did

Or did not. Tangled up and closed,
I watch the dipping sun lose
Itself in the basin of chatzos.

Link to the online version here