This is inspired by hearing of Elinor Ostrom’s last words before she died: ‘Time is the natural resource in the shortest supply’.
Outside is glorious
These afternoon hours of forgotten sun
These astounding blossoms and their scent
The peace of these garden days
It is all these
Something like watching for your stop on an unfamiliar route
Something like hearing the soft wind as a threat
Something like thirst with no tap near
It is something
What is it?
It is gnawing
What is gnawing at the bone with milk teeth?
What is slowly baring the bone of sinew?
What is it pinching at the marrow?
It is years
It is advances in time
Time that polishes each day to dazzle
Time that leaves gifts of hours then takes them
Time that goes without the saving of place