The Long and Short of it

Annoyingly elastic, hours shrink, just when
I want them long. At work today, not one
Would end. The sun was fixed as spreadsheet
Files lolled on my computer screen. I had
To meet with my new boss, who's known
To have a “gift for gab.” It is no gift, if
You ask me. At last, I fought the traffic
Here to be back at your side, and, look,
Already, it is very late. I have to leave to
Get some sleep, and, when my eyes are
Closed, I know the hours will begin to
Grow. By morning, in my office, they'll
Be infinite again.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2010-05-20 at 15:38

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