Who taught us to game time
withhold the gift of it
as punishment
as if it was inconsequential
sand to be doled at will
through the proverbial hourglass
easily flipped to resume its flow
once sufficient mea culpas are begged
apologies accepted
assuming there is an unlimited supply
days months years
only a matter of time.

My friends are dying
never knowing their time
but they certainly knew
for all that lives
time inevitably runs out
and love, stowed unspoken
set aside
to share at a more suitable time
serves nothing
as the moment for it

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