deepundergroundpoetry.com

My Time

A gentle breeze enters the house as sun sets
The kids next door have stopped playing in the yard
The nine year old on the other side thumps his last shot
Against the weakening, splintered fence
This is my time...

Cup of tea in hand, I watch two pigeons collecting twigs
Somewhere in the distance, a pelican crossing beeps
The tenant in the granny flat next door clears her throat
Rather too loudly to be ladylike and spits into a sputum pot
My time is done...

For life is always going to be like this
We take the pleasures we are given when we can
We should savour the small things in life
Cherish them as if each one was the last
Because one day it will...
Written by Zygot
Published
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