In the end, when the clocks
are stopped and the last
bell ringer ceases to be,
all we will have to mark the
time is the stories we tell.
Stories of that time he did
that hilarious thing, or that time
she said that marvelous thing,
or that time he gave so much
of himself. Of herself.
We’ll sit back and collectively
remember all those times; we’ll
smile, wipe away a tear, maybe laugh,
maybe wonder where the time went and
why it had to go.
We are the stories of time,
etched into the watch faces we
wear around our hearts, that keep
the time beating for others to
set their watches to.
So when it’s done, when time runs
out, the buzzer tolls, the last tick, the final
chance to have that moment comes;
We will still have the times. And no time
can ever take that time away.