Home > Journal > 2025 November Issue

Obsessively Checking the News for Signs of the Times

By Anya Horman

If God is spinning the solar system,
like a top on His finger, if He times

past, present, future
to one eternal round, time

is no calamity to Him.
He’s driving this car and He’ll pull over

right now, if He needs to. Time
is His deep languorous bath. Time

is a friend who will never disown us. Time
is preparation plus gather, minus haste. Time

whorls like fingerprints. We’ll get there
when we get there. Time

is essenced like oil in a dropper. We think time
is lengthened, counted, saved, or shortened,

as we screech like children
from the backseat, “Are we there yet?”

About Anya Horman

Anya Horman is a poet who grew up in California and Utah. She received a BA in English from The University of Utah. Her poems have appeared in The Canticle, Literary Mama, Inkpot, and Segullah. She resides in Millcreek, Utah where she boards dogs and operates Millcreek Taxidermy with her husband.


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