Leaving (not gladly)






The relative stillness,

Almost deathly,

The waiting.

The big hand-

played  tricks

Gave more minutes;

Just a shadow

Or a battery low.

Yet time, itself,

Seemed weighted –

Even if it finally passed;

Those last few moments

Then seemed rushed,

As broken from the


Torn from the

Tender embrace.

Time and taxi whisked

Me away.

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