March Away

Photography: Trish Jean

March Away

(Trish Jean)

Time is a dull roar
I hear it blurred
And faded and flown.

The clock is too cruel
Too crude in its
Markmanship of this and that
And then and now
Ticking over the pages
It cannot narrate
What will be
Yet I sit waiting.

Wasting time
Watching the hands
Throw up
Tic you, toc me,
Tic there, toc then,
Tic now, toc gone.

Watching it fall
Helpless to stop it
While you march on.

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