Life is too fast. This fact is not a revelation. The passage of time has been written about, talked about, sung about and likely even dreamed about. It’s taken advantage of, it’s forgotten, it’s wasted. We promise to make time for family, but somehow time passed before we can. We pass a stranger in need and quickly look away to avoid eye contact, the connection that would cause that disgusting feeling of guilt. If you don’t look into their eyes  they can’t see you, thus you can pretend you didn’t notice their dirty outstretched hand. Time isn’t on our side, despite the song that says otherwise and for most of us, it isn’t our friend. But if you pass your time right, it can be. It only takes a bit of willingness to give some of your time to someone else. It’s a selfless act that creates a shared moment. A moment to remember.  And when you willingly give some of your time to someone, it does slow down. You get to be where you are.

       To A Stranger
In the misty morning air
The click clopping of shoes
Upon wet cement
Sets my mind
into a musical cadence.
Each drop of rain
Lands in perfect rythym,
Every swoosh of a tire
Lends a crescendo.
A song heard
Time and again.
Born of the monotony
Of one day into the next,
Of one foot in front of the other
Of stories told and retold.
In the shabbiness of the
Morning air
The sun tries
to blink through the clouds
So it can burn through
The frozen humanity
That no longer
Gives a scrap of bread
To a stranger.
I watch as silhouettes
Dance between rain drops
Then scurry into shelter.
The click clopping of shoes
has faded into
a stark and silent
Breath of time.



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