Hourglass

People who have what they need
Bemoan being made to wait.
But a road that runs toward something is easier.
Here the hours melt like wax
And cling to me in layers
With no hand to peel them off.

Waiting for him,
I didn't know it at the time,
Was not the act of emptying an hourglass,
Slow and dull.
It meant that on the other side
I'd be full.

Reviews

[TheJordBaker]

A very good read, your use of language is great. Very reflective, honest and clever writing.