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Squinting At the Sun
The time between meals
Keeps shrinking.
That's because time is relative,
And we move relatively slower
As we age.
What are we to make of that?
What lesson? What wisdom?
We are waiting for our star,
Our celestial friend,
To climb.
And as it does
The snowbanks of winter
Will be melted,
And we will bask in sunlight,
That ray of summer.
It has been a long winter.
Our bones are tired;
Our skin is cold.
Now, as spring approaches,
Time seems less an enemy.
And hunger,
Not so empty.
Copyright ©
Bill Yates
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