Look at his hair. Silver. Sheen. Illuminating.
Look at his eyes. Brown. Alive. Etched at the corners.
He doesn’t say it, but his face carries a heavy smile. And he stands tall, his chest in the offense.
And Time has done something strange to him. The skin between his eyebrows
has formed dry ravines. A place sweat and stress used to reside.
My skin is tight. My smile wide and my chest is hidden behind barricaded arms.
I don’t mind the luxury of collecting a lifetime of crow’s feet or being enlightened.
I have Time to deal with and Time has to deal with me.
I’m not sure how long it will go for, this little dance people do along their customized Timelines. But I wish I was at the end.
I wish I was near where he is.
The other day, Time sucker punched me. It was cheap and nasty, but fair game.
I’m no good with my swings.
I’ve punched and kicked and bit and scratched, but still I miss. Time gets me every time.
When this dance inside the ring will end,
I don’t know.
But I envy that man.
His dance is almost at its end and Time will finally stop hassling him.
I can’t wait until I’m there.
The finish line is just around the corner.
Edited by Kelly Benning