From the Verse Essays of Ivar Benløs: Fog

Whatever we claim time is,
We only experience
Time in one way forever.
Einstein with his equations
Still trundled through life and died
As he often slept, pure gone.
No one will ever go back

Or leapfrog forward, except
In accidents of being
Aware of a discomfort,
A puzzling rearrangement,
A dream, then forward again,
The incoming coming in,
Another and another.