time

time warps and bends

   like a runaway train
      it careers down the track
         whipping words from my lips
            and the breath from my lungs

there is no time left
for planning and shopping
and Christmas is piling on top of my head

 and yet

  like
   a sloth
     it is
   pon-der-ous-ly
 i n c h i n g
   along a branch
 slow
   and very
      nonchalant

time acts to spite me
and days seem so endless
waiting and waiting to hold you again