Clock Watching

An old man

a WW2 survivor

leaned in and said

It’s not fair

A man needs 2000 years

to live his life

He’s gone now

you made sure of that

transformed into a name and date

on a stone marker

barely even a memory

 

I’m getting old

my mother whispered at forty-five

I wanted to tell her

don’t be daft

But what did I know?

Not more than the oppressive mirror

you held up for her

 

I’ve always been old

You embroidered it into my warp and weft

I hid in the simple pattern

hoping to escape your eye

Silly, I know

pretending in vain

that you hadn’t spotted me

 

You nudged me awake just now

two hours before my alarm

But you’ve been shadowing me

since the day I first remembered

Shears ready

do you measure me in minutes

hours or years?

 

You exasperate me

with your thieving ways

snatching the life I own

bit by bit

leaving me with a pocketful of anxiety

Haven’t you taken enough?

No, I guess not

not yet


Photo by Johannes Rapprich from Pexels

10 thoughts on “Clock Watching

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