On the Way to DeathOn the Way to Death
I rode my tricycle over the gravel and the neighbors dogs barked as I passed every morning.
The days were long and grand yet I hurtled too quickly through them;
Kites streaming in the ripping wind, and a child lets go of the string
August 18thAugust 18, 2009
So much to do, so little time. Theres a reason it became a phrase. Theres never enough time, though the clock ticks steady and slow like the beat of my heart in my chest-something that goes on forever, it seems Yet I know Forever only lasts as long as you can mouth the words
Have you ever lain restless in bed, staring at nothing through the heavy darkness as the shadowy silhouettes of your furniture loom at the corners of your eyes like silent sentries, and you strain to hear something, anything in the darkness? And you hear something, a muffled staccato something as you draw the sheets close. Its the clock sitting on your dresser, just like it always has. It ticks softly, but suddenly you hear nothing but the ticking. It keeps you awake at night, it tears through the dark and silence. Obsession. It drives you mad, it ticks away the seconds you have in th