Someone said it: Time is a thief.
It takes a part of us each day.
At first, it doesn’t seem too much:
A single hair, a shard of skin,
A tiny speck of recollections;
But the tally mounts, the mirror
Documents this slippery slope.
Time, we know, is a one-way bet;
Such a lot goes unrecorded.
Our memories cannot keep up,
So even at our peak the gaps
Expand like huge looming canyons
Into which, despite our efforts,
The daily discharge tumbles.
A fine exploration of the poetry of ageing, Steve. An important adventure that is well worth writing about ... before the awfully big one ...
Thank you, Graham. Yes, perhaps time is also a catalyst accompanying these significant changes in our lives, when we give up certain aspects of ourselves. The transition for work to retirement marks an important milestone, usually dictated by the march of time.
And thanks to everyone who liked this poem.
It’s interesting that you see time as a thief. Sometimes I feel that we all too easily give up certain n aspects of ourselves. One is the position of provider as our children grow older and want to provide for themselves and for me too! It is quite humbling.
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Stephen Gospage
Wed 12th Nov 2025 06:48
Thank you very much, Greg. Yes, it's an interesting journey, one way unfortunately!