Time Out

Yellow dashes on the wet tarmac,
time passes, repeats itself in stanzas.
‘Tempo, tempo, tempo’

roars the choirmaster.

Keep in stride,
or move aside.

Time slips away,
is marked in digits
dials, kilometers, miles

Told in adverbials, growing wild
by the roadside and in fields
unfettered, unrestrained

JB

Binford, North Dakota