Hourglass
We live in the future of the past.
The past of the future.
The present is an hourglass
We try to freeze the sands of time
Dusty hours, the center, its wooer
Grains breaking through symmetry,
Just like them, we fall in line,
Until it’s dirt under stone
Sync with earth in a cemetery,
While decay makes sand from bone.
We become time as those hours pass
Generations from before: our hourglass