Spent, kept, served, saved;
On our hands;
Measured by sands,
Waits for no-one.
Tea, bath, bed, story,
Spring (hey, ding a ding, ding)
The chariot hurtles through the sky
Day after day as time goes by
Bringing a gift, a burden, adventure;
Remorseless, relentless, bringing the future
To us who fill, kill, waste or make it
Stand still, hang heavy, fly or take it
For granted that time will heal
And the moving finger will reveal
Just who we are and who we’ve been
In the time of our lives.
Michele Slatter lives in Adelaide. Educated at Durham University and University College London, she is a semi-retired law academic who has written extensively professionally and continues to undertake consultancy and research. With time to do so now, however, she also enjoys the adventure of writing ‘faction’ and occasionally poetry, and is a member of an active writers’ group.
Readers’ original and unpublished poems of up to 40 lines can be emailed, with postal address, to email@example.com. Submissions should be in the body of the email, not as attachments. A poetry book will be awarded to each accepted contributor.
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This article is supported by the Judith Neilson Institute for Journalism and Ideas.