Second Hand

Blink
The day is gone
Like that
Clock spins
Like a windmill defeating
Don Quixote
She takes people away
Empties rooms
Forces phone calls to explain absence
I'll be home late, you say
And when you are
When time is no longer your friend
You embrace the quiet moments once taken for granted
And fall from grace

© Poem Fix http://www.poemfix.com/ 2013