Hinnant

Time

It slips away like the sun dropping behind the ocean.

It dances away like a child laughing.

It creeps away like a cat after a nap.

It passes away like footprints in the sand.

It blows away like ashes from a fire.

 

It slips by like a stranger on a train.

It dances by like a bride on her wedding day.

It creeps by like a wolf on the hunt.

It passes by like a car on the highway.

It blows by like the wind on its journey.

 

It can not be stopped.

It slips, dances, creeps, passes and blows.

It can never return.