No Time for Untold Tales

No Time for Untold Tales

Tick, then tock. And repeat.
To, then fro. Been here before.
But wait – a delay, a tweak,
Aiming to improve his score.

Again another dash is made,
Across the numbered square.
Anxious to quickly turn the page,
Yet, averse to the journey there.

Autumn’s pages inked in memory,
Arriving to the last leaf of its kind.
Chiming to mentally mark time
Until spring's break isn’t far behind.

Tick, then silence. Tock not found.
Cupping his face in static hands,
He never truly knew the hour,
Until his glass stored its sands.

To, but no fro. Final stop.
Worn gears remain to tell his tale
In absence of the desired chimes,
And his pendulum halts, stale.

Author's Note: Through this work, I sought to capture the tension between movement and stagnation, the desire to progress, and the quiet realization that time continues, whether we mark it or not. Exploring the passage of time, I use both natural and artificial markers—such as the changing seasons, the marking of calendars, and the ticking of a clock—as metaphors. The poem reflects on the regret of failing to fully live in each moment and the inevitable, abrupt halting of time. Using an ABCB rhyme scheme I aimed to symbolize the protagonist's too late realization by waiting to create closure for the reader until the end of each verse. The meter in this one is free, but rhythmic to signify the passing of time and how we perceive some moments to drag by, and others seem fleeting. This piece serves as a meditation on how we often rush through life, ticking off days and seasons, only to realize too late that time has passed us by.