What is “Time”?

I’ve never seen a “minute” in my entire life.

An hour’s illusive; can’t cut it with a knife.

I’ve lived week by week without seeing a foot print.

A month whizzes right by – is it in a spring-sprint?

Years fly like in the game: five, ten, fifteen, twenty

Are they running out or will I still have plenty?

And decades? They also roll by from start to end

Not staying long to visit, as should a good friend

Someday we’ll remember this mystery we call time;

It was passing, as quick as a Lord’s-day church chime.

– eab, 5/2/16