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Creases of Time text image

Time—did it slip through my fingers, flow
Subtly as water? My little big brother,
Running across the pastures with his kite, where did that go?
Footsteps trailing mine, hands clasped tightly—my mother.

I can see the time pass in the creases of my
Grandfather’s eyes, his skin lined with the trick of time. If only
It wouldn’t go so fast, then we wouldn’t need to say so many goodbyes
All too soon. If just once, my world could live forever . . .

But if all worlds lasted forever, when
Would new ones be born? Babies gaze at the world with big eyes, bright,
Seeing things they’ve never seen before. The old watch with
Eyes that have seen too much, the pale that follows a dark night.

Time forces us to make use of what we have, unfurled,
It forces us to say goodbye and hello to the ever-changing world.

Tara Prakash
Tara Prakash, 12
Chevy Chase, MD