Sleepy-eyed, I rose from bed and stumbled to the kitchen.
Time was fully-dressed, perky, and ready to go.
“Just one more cup of coffee,” I asked.
But he left me standing there alone,
for he knows not how to wait.
The morning traffic rushed to a standstill.
Time looked at me and smiled as he eased past my car.
“Just one more minute,” I asked.
But he left me idling there,
for he knows not how to wait.
My little girl was all tucked in, and I read her a bedtime story.
Time stood at the door and gave me a look.
“Just one more book,” my daughter asked.
But he turned out the light,
for he knows not how to wait.
My little girl, now grown into a woman, will soon be wed.
Time handed me a hanky and motioned to my seat.
“Just one more hug,” I asked.
But he led her down the aisle,
for he knows not how to wait.
The husband of my youth has taken very ill.
Time stands here dressed in black.
“Just one more kiss,” I ask….
Soon the day will come when I too shall fall asleep,
and Time will come for me.
“Just one more breath,” I’ll ask.
But he will take me by the hand,
for he knows not how to wait.
“Only about 5% of the universe is visible matter. There are many things that we cannot see but that exist nonetheless.” So says Jilly, this week’s host of Poetics at dVerse Poets Pub. This week’s challenge, “Unseen Things,” is to consider those things we cannot see, such as the wind, emotions, and time.
Copyright © 2018 Abigail Gronway – All Rights Reserved
Dark Side of the Moon 
A beautifully expressed poem. Telling with force the Inevitability of the short time remaining to us all and a reminder of what we will miss.
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Thank you, Roland.
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Time, one of those things they’re just not making more of. Touchingly beautiful at the end. I hope Time will be so gentle with me.
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Thank you, Jane. I have witnessed three people take their last breath, and for all three it was as peaceful as falling asleep. I too hope to go the same way when Time comes for me.
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Yes, it can be peaceful. I’ve only been with my mother when she died, and that was peaceful if you like, but in a hospital. My dad died in an ambulance, struggling against the inevitable, and my mother’s mother died in her sleep after writing farewell letters. There are lots of ways to go, but none of them particularly entice me.
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This is beautiful.
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Thank you kindly.
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a touching ode to the second hand – the repetition of ‘he knows not how to wait’ underpins the whole sense of time always moving on
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Thank you, Laura. Yes, that second hand is always steady, isn’t he?
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I love the journey of time… really strong with the constant movement towards an end we know must come.
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Thank you, Björn. And so true. Sometimes it’s possible to be late, to lag behind time; but other times we have no choice.
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Really love this. I chose time for this prompt as well, ironically I chose time for this prompt 25 years ago, showing that sometimes if time can’t wait, you just have to bend it a little bit. This was so wonderful. Like “Cat’s and the Cradle”… but without the heaps of guilt, just the quiet recognition. So beautiful.
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Thank you, Lona. I read yours and really enjoyed it, especially the bit after the poem about the time spent with your daughter. That is precious. You chose wisely.
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Outstanding use of repetition – really drives home the essential. The way you move us through time by personifying Time is compelling. Well written!
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Thank you, Jilly. I had an idea of what I wanted to do, but didn’t know whether I had accomplished it until I read the poem to my 17-year-old daughter, then looked up and saw tears in her eyes.
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Oh, that’s a sure sign. Congrats
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Love this: “for he knows not how to wait” – It is powerful in its simplicity. My favorite line is “husband of my youth” because I call my wife “Wife of my youth”
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Thank you, Roger. I had never used that expression to describe him before, but it fits. 🙂
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Your words are so powerful, makes me feel like I am clutching the coat of time begging him alongside you.
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Thank you, Zurk.
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Nice repeating line about time not knowing how to wait.
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Thanks, Frank. Yes, it’s like the second hand that never stops sweeping around the face of the clock.
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Though time is gentle in this poem I still feel a chill from the unrelenting nature you depict. Very nice!
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This is the sort of authority that is easy to follow, even when you don’t whole-heartedly want to.
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Loved this. truthfully I thought this was ringing true to me because I often feel I have no time t wait and can be cordial but quick with the world around me. Then when time revealed himself I also understood. I often feel time is chasing me. Very nice and free flowing it was to read. thank you Abigail.
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I appreciate your thoughtful comment, Paul. I’m glad you took the time both to read and to let me know what it meant to you.
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Oh my goodness….teary eyed am I. I felt this deeply and connected with it at so many points. I sit in my study with photos magentized to the convector across the room: my parents long departed from this world, holding out ice cream cones and smiling; my grandchildren as babes; my now grown children, when they were young. I often wonder how the past arrives so quickly.
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Lillian, you touched my heart with your response. The past, to me, is like the waves of the ocean. You’re standing waist deep, looking toward the shore, then all of a sudden the past comes over your head and engulfs you.
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