“A Cheesy Philosophical Reflection”

I peeled apart the sides of plastic wrap
(which called to mind a serpent shedding skin
that never knows it’s turned to just a scrap
detached from what its purpose once had been).
Its change exists inside my single mind
and hidden future scenes it might affect,
not waiting frozen back in days behind
for chrono-travel journeys to detect.

In time, the stringy mozzarella cheese
and package where the snack was tightly sealed
might be entwined with poles that melt or freeze
or wounds infected, dodged, or fully healed.
But there’s no realm that keeps the former “nows”,
where processed cheese is still the milk in cows.

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