Time travels with us always

As time may clearly remember
We are well prepared
with our bags packed in hours unending
Journeys too long for seconds
sermons too short for minutes
We debut every time we have
We have been here before
written notes about newborns in the North
the way flowers await their evening meals
how mornings open like letters
we are wired in time to remember
that the week will wait to monitor
deadlines unmet, hours of ‘workless’ sleep
months that work without salaries
years that fail to come with birthdays
dates that never lasted
quickies that went beyond seconds
Time sits in our front pockets
like badges and brooches
and sentries on duty.
Time reveals the guilty
Settles to heal wounds
but not after it runs out
like a tired messenger
asking directions from a stranger.
Time becomes a broken hour glass
In the end, we return
to where it all started
The clock resets and reduces speed
How much time does a man need?

Leonell