Tracking Time

Take

this day

It is your starting block

to hurtle into tomorrow and tomorrow

and ten thousand tomorrows.

More if

you’re lucky

Minutes, hours may drag

but the years screech past

relentless as a train

Meanwhile, you have these

empty days

to fill with

colors, bright or muted

music,

white noise or a

frantic cacophony.

You choose

today

Alarm

We must not allow the clock and the calendar to blind us to the fact that each moment of life is a miracle and a mystery.  -H.G. Wells

I dread the ticking of the clock,

it dogs my steps, it shreds my wits,

and stabs my life with each tick-tock.

I dread the ticking of the clock

it’s both a weapon and a lock.

that snips my future into bits.

I dread the ticking of the clock,

it dogs my steps and shreds my wits.

This is my poem for Day #3 of PAD.  I got the idea of writing a "machine poem" from Robert Brewer of Writer's Digest where he is providing a prompt each day of April. 

Days of Our Lives

Darling

in your hands

mortar and pestle

 are used to grind time

to a fine powder -

80 grit

to fit

in the hourglass 

figure, in the tarnished 

sliver frame on the mantle.

But sands gather at our

waist and hips, as we

give lip service to the good old days.

Here are 55 timely, shapely words (including title) for the G-man at FF55.