Time Is Running Poem by Galina Italyanskaya

Here is my house, pretty high,
My flat under the roof.
Here is my neighbour Mr. Time
Who always needs to move.
While I'm opening my eyes,
He's ready for a run.
The sun has coloured the skies,
The morning has begun.

It's dark and cold or warm and light -
He leaves his own flat.
I see him heading to the right
And never to the left.
And when I'm going to my friends,
And when I'm coming home,
I meet him jogging in his pants
Towards me or along.

I watch him circling round and round
And round about the house.
His footsteps gently touch the ground
But never take a pause.
He doesn't yawn, he doesn't fall,
He's not set up to fail.
Still I'm just waiting for your call
Or letter, or email.

Well, maybe I should not forget
What life is all about.
The clock has stopped inside my flat
For Mr. Time is out.

________________________

(January 01 2019, Ukhta)