This summer is slipping away—
not like the hourglass sands, though—
not effortlessly, not so quickly I barely perceive its passing.
No, time is like labor:
It is difficult, it is painful, it is work.
It is natural, worthwhile, yielding life and love and beauty,
but—good heavens!—it often hurts, and I certainly notice.
Mothers who say, “Where did the time go?”
must have tapped into a cosmic epidural
of which I am unaware.
1 comment:
With all those to do lists that have been piling up. Summer should be the season of productivity and efficiency! Instead the contagious nature of summer cleverly pulls you into a seductive grasp that lulls you into a false sense of security and warped sense of time. In the last stages of this disease symptoms include panic, heavy breathing, stress, lack of sleep and exclamations "Where did summer GO?!"
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