sunrise sunset

we work.
we plug along, day
in day out.
it's not about the money.

it's something else.
we're filing
time. precious time.
we're dutiful. loyal.

we bow to the grind
of it.
the religious ferocity
of the clock.
kneeling at the altar
of work
we genuflect to
the corporate cross.

in moving
we find the stillness
that life
won't give. the vague drug
of peace that being
busy gives. there's
no time
to think about what is,
what isn't.

work.
work.
work.

sunrise sunset.

pound the hammer.
the chisel, bring out
the saw.
but making nothing
that lasts. all that matters
slips
through our fingers.

there is no now,
just an empty heart,
a faded past.
life will wait,
until it won't.