Time is a Thief

Time is a thief.

He passes by hardly noticed, tickling around your consciousness.

Too late you realize his sleight of hand

Has lifted youth from your coat pocket.


Where went my youth?

I once ran fast…

Like time flying by.

But who has seen an old man sprint?

My running days are over.


Muscles and joints ache

Sight grows dim

My but is sagging

I’m anything but slim

I’ve got this aging thing down pat

I’m slow, forgetful, and fat

It’s not something I’ve had to work at.

Yes, I’m a natural when it comes to aging.


I am a slow leak.

My vessel is almost empty.

But I would rather fertilize grass

Than be pumped full of formaldehyde and buried 6 ft. under.


A tear for a day or two,

A kind thought,

A longing in the night from one person for awhile

And then nothing.

How often do you think kindly of your

Dead great grandfather?

Life is vanity.


What does it mean

Except that it’s perpetuated by a teenager’s thrill.

Like the drip of a Fawcett that won’t stop

No matter how hard you turn the handle.


We read so much into each little drip.