Have you ever watched an egg-timer
And noticed how the slow trickle
And an age seems to pass
Between each falling grain?
The relentless sifting
Shifting tiny dunes
From one cyclical step to another?
Time motions on.
Held by it movement
You're surprised by its progress,
Leaving suddenly far diminished
What's yet left to come.
The trickle quickens
Through its predetermined channel,
And in a final
And your eggs are done.