Time Out

.

They leak out

from the calendar –

seconds, minutes lost.

They steal away

into the fog

and freeze to winter’s frost.

.

I close my eyes

and there’s an hour

missing from the day.

It turned into

a floppy kite

and spring blew it away.

.

Dripping

through my fingers

another day has gone,

evaporated

yesterday

from summer’s placid pond.

.

And soon a year

has fallen

bright confetti on the ground

and I wonder

if we’ll ever have

the time to just slow down.

.

.

© 1992, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

.

(….and another 26 years has flown by since writing this….)

.

(a re-post)

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