A quick, furtive glare at the hourglass
is a must I decide as I plait my hair
and shovel on the face I keep for lunching out.
My subtly brown lips smirk as I catch myself
in the mirror. The picture of elegance…I wish.
But as I prepare to leave I consult
my hourglass and stop dead in my tracks.
Where has all the sand gone? I have just half
left but where’s the rest?
Surely I cannot have lived for so long?
Surely I would have noticed life slip by somehow?
I scan the photographic memories on the walls,
searching for an answer,
searching for a hint of time passing, something,
anything, which might make sense.
But the attempt is futile, its nowhere to be found.
No answer, no hint, just so many questions.
And I wonder why the present, which is here, now, this minute,
is all too suddenly yesterday, before, gone.
As I ponder this I notice the black writing of my past
crouching in the corner, waiting to pounce,
perhaps I should leave now say my gold shaded eyes.
I pass by the hourglass and pay it no heed.
For this is today and I live for now.
By: Becky Bite