"Clepysdra"

Time measured by length of shadows

Or by the way the light slants in the seasons.

Shorter days; longer nights. Then, a reversal.

Grains of sand fall steadily through a glass.

The gears of a Swiss watch turn intricately, precisely.

Calendar pages torn; appointments kept and broken.

The bells of a distant Church summon the faithful to prayer.

Giggling school children called to silence by ringing brass bell.

A college student sips coffee, wearily crumples loose leaf and dog-ears texts.

An inmate scrapes a hash mark on a concrete wall.

A timecard punctuates the end of a shift.

Hurried footsteps indicate check marks only next to half the day’s To-Do.

A mother observes her child grow: suckling, crawling, walking, talking, running. 

The farmer measures height of the crop and days until harvest.

A grey-haired woman wistfully counts the spots on her trembling hands.

Salt stains a pillow where once perspiration branded tangled sheets.

Tears cascade softly—cruel tally born of separation.

Relentless time shamelessly offers no solace: Tick. Tock.