clocked.

watches fasten ticking
as time turns from here to gone,
we sit thinking
as the present, so it passes,
turning now into forever,
fast.

a guardian of the everyday,
in time cementing steps we've taken,
small impressions in the sand, of footsteps
tracing where we are, connecting what we've seen,
binding the pages of our lives --
the love, the loss, the life,
the substance of the in-between.

a testament to things unseen,
of belief ne'er before explored by eyes imploringly
seeking awe in splendor preened
by imagination and thought, abstract, we
learn from lessons lived in hours
a countdown marked by ticking hands.
      An accounting
of our shadows in the sand.