When Time is Up

Don't keep on talking or saying how much you miss the little blue buttons on her favorite shirt, or brushing the 'sleepies' from the corners of her eyes when she'd wake up in the morning lying next to you. Don't try to call out your window or down your stairs after her. Don't offer any apologies with tearfilled eyes or make stuttered excuses. Don't say that clever line or send those thorny red roses, they'll only die,

Unanswered on the snowy doorstep.

Don't come to the rescue of swollen bellied children or try to give a smile or a kind word to that wrinkled old man who's broken down mailbox is right next to yours. Don't keep playing the game or wanting to win, don't think about making up the difference. Don't answer questions and expect to be heard or even listened to.

Don't be sorry; they aren't.

Don't ask the question echoing in the back of your head. Don't hand over work or try to get it in, don't run or even start, don't bother finishing either or trying to make good, don't try to see. Don't ask, act, breathe, brag, buy, clean, cry or create, drive, dance, hurt, hope, look, laugh or love, open, pay, regret, sing, think, walk or wink,
don't pray.

When Time is up the last granule of sand falls through the hole�¢ï¿½�¦
Into the Rest of Time.

Kurt Clausen 1986