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The Reinvention of Time Travel by Mel Witherden: heading image

The Reinvention of Time Travel
Going back to the start without a map or a watch
(from The Last Orchid, a work in very long progress)  

Imagine: children and elderly alike

disintegrate their worlds, then realign

to impersonate the inverse rim of life –

young man of ninety meets wise child of nine.
 

Eve, the patient in a coma, tells

the Traveller he must discover the

secret of time travel 

“Find a way to travel time,”

said my love in mime –

silent,  not defined,

her will, her mind.

Just “Find,”

she underlined,

leaving what I’d been assigned,

and why, still undivined:

 

Could I afford her life’s disorder

if I declined. Should I ignore her,

when our futures are so intertwined

and each of us is blind?

 

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