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Time as a Brick of Amber

I left my mother behind in Time
and now she's getting further behind
a static image that never proceeds
her echoes silence as she recedes
She's like a painting or etching in Space
and Time, not even running in place
like a mural she stands in the aging past
forever the same as I saw her last
She's not the first Other I've passed, indeed
I've left behind many, but this one I need
to remember is someone who's think of me
in her last frozen moment in motion

The Alienist

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