the hourglass

i ponder the people

 in the afternoon frenzy,

they dash down the sidewalk-

 bumping into each other,

too much in a hurry

 to murmur polite pardons. 

sensing the grains of the hourglass,

 they quicken their pace,

while the rush of their blood

 hastens as deadlines grow closer.

but what will they feel

 when the realization strikes

that these grains, 

that are finite and precious,

     are few?

what of the deadlines,

 so faithfully kept,

 when there will be

  no more giddy children to delight in,

  no more passionate embraces,

  no more spring picnics to share with a friend,

  no more sunday afternoons graced by

   wind chimes and hummingbirds?

what of these deadlines then?

the sand flows

 unheeded by regrets ...

what more is a lifetime

 than a minute too short?

         .... kymberlie birkenkamp