Time Wish


Father Time hovers in the hallway's

fading evening light considering 

temporal mechanisms invented to keep

track of his handiwork.


Mother Time says, If I had my druthers,

I would calculate using an abacus, dare

it to stage a come back. Then hour glasses

as the long and short  matter, would once

more become a household must, and all

backyards would host a sundial.


But we are not time-aligned as we are

evolving homo sapien, toe tapping in broken

uncoordinated rhythms, perpetually contemplating 

how long it takes to count one minute. The

scythe is gleaming. A pendulum rocks


Papa Time coughs up infinity, spits up

spirals of now and when. Women, children,

and men belatedly sidle past the sound of

the temporal without begging pardon. We, as

a disunited whole, eye his cutlery, wink

at Momma Time, then with disdain comment

smugly, "Cool blade!"







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roseblossoms's picture

It is pretty nice to read!

It is pretty nice to read! Can see why it’s a favorite!

allets's picture

Time Poems

Are fun. Thanks for stoppin' by roseblossoms :D slc