Saturday, September 1, 2012

Last hour before midnight

You borrow from peter to pay paul,
The hours of each day ticking passed
But not in seconds, minutes or hours
But remembrances,
left in the wake
Of your passing,
Drifting in a sea of sand
One even Lawrence of Arabia
Could not navigate
So far out of memory
By the time you reach
The peak of the next wave
And you lost, too,
That genie already out of the bottle
Cheating you of all your wishes
The savvy sailor who defied sea sickness
Only to succumb to love,
Loose changes rattled in your pockets
Instead of gold,
That one magic moment gone
In a whirlwind
Time ticking on,
One hour bumping into the next
Until you reach that hour when
You realize you can never catch up,
And rub the bottle over and over
With a vain last wish
For the genie to come back,
For someone to fill that one missing hour
Before the clock strikes midnight
And you turn back to what you were

Al Sullivan's webpage

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