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Time in a Bottle ©

John McCormick
Orillia, Canada

When first we enter into time,
By head or by our feet,
Someone checks the seconds
In the rapid beat
Of Lifeís blood passing through our veins.
In keeping pace with the human race
Every second we must count
To be on time for school
A minute late??
Detention ??,
That memory remains.

The hours are slowly counted off
As we wait the end of day, and bed,
Cannot sleep, appointments to keep,
Such thoughts run through our head.
An hourly watch,
The passing of the Winter months
From December to late in May
Creep slowly, so I think.
Iíll just put on another log,
And have another drink
Of Scotch.

As I gaze down at my Rolex,
The second, minute, day.
The phases of a waning moon
Are always on display.
What use is that?
All of it a play on time.

To write to Rolex is my intent,
To give them pause
And then invent
A different timepiece.
I would make the dial luminous,
It would only need two gears.
Numbers big, that I could see
And a face that shows just years.

It could run in reverse from seventy
After all is said and done,
Why longer?
That should be plenty.
Actuarially, and according to my insurance policy,
Iíve already won. (a watch)

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