The Passing of Time

THE PASSING OF TIME
April 7, 2009

I hate the passing
of time,
the hours between birth
and death . . .
that time which erodes
the skin and
bends the back and
cripples the legs.
Which dims the eyes and
fades the ears,
destroys the teeth,
recedes the gums,
and with the wave of
its palms,
transforms the entire
body until
it is no longer
recognizable.
Death is a pleasure
by comparison, for it
plays no tricks,
holds no surprises.