Time is borrowed. Each moment is taken by someone or something. The moments we think are our own are spent doing something for another. There are times, we may slip away for a stolen moment or two, wishing there was more of it, hoping against all hope not to have to return to business as usual. Moments in time flashing, fading, taunting our memories. Pieces of time teasing us, calling us, needing us, savings us, making us who we are. Time is the keeper and taker of man.
By Felina Silver Robinson