A Time to Ponder

From time to time

speculation as to when and why

and subsequent regrets

creates preoccupation with time,

a morbid fascination with watching

the second hand circle,

certainly not clock - wise

and relentless, as I observe it,

persistent and pesky

when I think on it,

there's no slowing down

no turning back,

morning's song now a memory,

the day too far along

to be denied.

Were I to smash my watch,

"That'll be enough of you!"

and it would now be 2:01

then 2:02

and suddenly 3:20

in the afternoon

and I see that I am

simply going along, in motion

and no longer speculating

as to what set me moving

but noticing

I am much less sentimental

in the afternoons,

and for what it's worth

the only place where time

is bent to my will

is in the movies