Tuesday, December 26, 2017

the spill of time

the spill
of time, that puddle of hours
we've lost
in worry.
in grieving what can't
be undone,
that dull spot on the floor,
where
we let it drip and drip
until
empty, until there was
no more.
how careless we
are
with time, with each
hour,
with each daily pour.

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