Dave Bonta's short poem begins with a simple, almost startling claim: this morning, everything around the speaker is talking to them. It suggests a heightened state of attention, where the ordinary world feels alive and full of voices. The speaker seems open, even a little dazzled.
After that, the poem slips out of plain logic. The speaker gets "one inch" in a coach, heading toward a "white noon," and then we meet "the famous asters" that "pay the sea two days." None of this adds up neatly, and it probably isn't meant to. The images feel like fragments of a dream, or like impressions caught in a flash of perception. The title, "Time Lapse," fits: time seems to stretch and jump, so an inch of travel and two days of payment sit side by side.
The mood is hushed, strange, and curious. Rather than explain the experience, the poem lets you feel it, leaving you somewhere between wonder and puzzlement.