It’s Monday again –
days passing through
my hands like sand,
no receptacle in which
to catch the granules –
why this sense of urgency?
In high school, I played hooky
wiped away the hours in empty
places, sought answers for
questions I could not articulate,
chased dust while other formulated
dreams – how is this any different?
Am I not just recreating the pattern,
painting over efforts with adult hues,
donning the pretence of self-importance
while occupied with vapid tasks – time
continues to slip by, and what have I
to show for it other than incessant panic?
(Wasted Time was first published February, 2017. I resubmit here for my weekly challenge: the chase. Image my own.)
(Inspired by the prompts of Ragtag Community: chase, and Fandango: double. )
I must still
quiet my nerves,
Days light fades –
time is running out
movements need be
No room for error
as I navigate
this rocky path
the taste of
Joy of stalking.
(Written for Deb Whittam’s 50 Word Thursday prompt. Image courtesy of Deb. Visit Twenty Four to participate.)