The Middle

It doesn’t matter if we’re celebrating
the best thing that ever happened,
or staring at our heart lying on the floor
in millions of tiny pieces.
Time moves ahead (seemingly)
as if we pushed the fast forward button.
Those hands on the analog clock
have a mind of their own,
turning and turning, making our heads spin,
wondering where the hours have gone.
Where have the hours gone?
How does a decade ago feel like yesterday?
Why does my mind tell me I’m forty
when my driver’s license tells me I’m wrong?
Just yesterday, my daughter and son
played with Lego and Barbies.
Today they’re adulting, living with
bills that show up in the mailbox
on a monthly basis. Always prompt.
Just yesterday, I took my last photo
of our senior pup, not knowing
it would be the last photo
I would take of him.
Right now, a man in his seventies
is undergoing bypass surgery.
Just yesterday, he and his wife
were walking on one of their
routine five-mile daily walks.
Time is precious. Do we need reminding?
We’ve heard it before,
but have we ruminated on the concept,
held it in the palm of our hand,
massaged it, comprehending?
This is the question
as the conveyor belt of life
carries us from here to there, wind in our face.
But do we notice what’s in the middle?
Because in the middle is what we shouldn’t miss.

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