What goes faster every time I turn around
How odd that as I age
I move slower
and time runs twice as fast.
When I was little, school
took three years to pass,
ring upon ring of hours.
When I was young, summer
vacation was as long
as seabirds can fly.
High school classes froze
my brain and sawdust words
took eons to filter down.
In my twenties, a month
long love affair could hurt
to vanishing like train tracks.
Death belonged to other
people. Every promise was
forever and several days.
Now time runs through
the sieve of my veined hands
and is gone, is gone, is gone.
Marge Piercy