It’s been five hours, and
I’m wide awake. The clock
ticking away at its own joke.
Tock – Tock! –
Enough! I’m suing for lost time.
I let it slide far too long –
too old for tock-tock jokes.
The Sandman late again…
Twelve happy sheep lining
the jury box – tired of
hitting a brick wall, they’re looking
forward to the show.
The familiar smell of popcorn
tickling my nose while
Mrs. Sand pounds on the drums –
Mr. Sand rehearsing recycled script.
Father Time sittin’ behind the bench
wearing a white wig – smiling cause
his costume arrived early from Amazon.
A few hours strolling in late,
tired from their unexpected flight –
Court is now in session!
The clock in charge of minutes.
Mr. Sand, how do you plead?
Not guilty – for it is not I
who lost those hours
wandering my sands at night!
And they can never be returned.
Most too weary for further travel.
Soon they will sleep in sandy beds –
save these three you see here.
But your Honor, I need them all
to make up the difference!
To which Father Time calmly replies
in a voice befitting his costume:
My dear child, perhaps first
you should tend to those still
in your care, treating each
one with like respect.
Perhaps then, you would not mourn
time lost, disturbing those at rest.
And may I suggest that you too
get some rest, using the few hours left –
Tomorrow spotted through the window.
©Brenda Baker 2016
Inspired by this week’s bout of insomnia. I never take a good night’s sleep for granted. 🙂