gunpowder in an hourglass

Published by james geehring on

the ugly writers

Looking back in memory, a moment quite sublime,
I found within an hourglass, that was meant to mark my time.
The top half seemed quite brimming with time’s golden glowing grains,
A sea without horizon, churned below my endless plains.

But as I glanced around my glass I started to discern,
Other glasses set about, no matter where I’d turn.
Each one held a single life atop their grainy piles,
While at its’ waist, the hourglass, kept counting off mind’s miles

I saw how small the sands of some, while others towered high,
And realized I’d never know, when my time would come nigh.
Turning to a flash of light, the sound of shattered glass
Amongst the shards and grains of sand, another life did pass.

Because my hourglass seemed full, I had not given thought,
To cherish every grain within, a lesson just now taught.
Like gunpowder, instead of sand, our time in little mounds
A careless spark from destiny, releasing death’s dark hounds.

I see the sands within my glass, receding from the walls,
And wish to keep exploring, my life-house last few halls.
A timely look at what has been, was living life well-paced?
No answers from the hourglass, as we slip below its’ waist.

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