He looked down the path,
winding and woven,
wishing he’d chosen another way.
Hoping to reach out and grab the day,
maybe just run away, with it, and hide.
Trying, to take it all in stride,
but knowing, he’s falling far behind.
Running, so blindly through these aching times,
but time has stopped least once before.
And maybe once more.
And maybe once more.