Time After Time

as a retiree, put out of the business world,

people say I should have plenty of time,

but, whatever time is, 

I don’t have any of it to spare

time after time I’m late, rushed or hurried,

because I take to long a nap,

or take too long to read a new book,

or I simply forget 

what I should do next

time after time I just don’t have enough of it 

to finish the morning paper, 

drink my second cup of coffee,

take that important meditative walk,

listen to favorite iTunes Podcasts,

or enjoy the solitude of my iPod

time after time that perfect word 

eludes me, when I write a poem 

then there are days, it seems, 

when I can’t seem to write anything, 

is this because I’m running out of time?

time after time I must check 

on that darn minute minder 

when I’m cooking my favorite dish 

or boiling my precious coffee,

otherwise the water boils away 

and may even ruin the teapot,

does time boil away too?

time after time I find myself 

repeating things to my wife 

or to my dog -- maybe they are losing time, too, 

or are they just running out of it, like me

time after time I look at rivers, streams, 

even creeks -- do you know that water 

always runs down hill? An egg timer, 

an hourglass, a wind-up clock, 

even a good chronometer,

can never tell us the time that’s past

time after time I notice that gravity, 

like time is a one way thing,

our lives are like that aren’t they?

whatever time is, we never have enough of it,

we seem to always lose it, somewhere,

and it seems we can never relive times past.