Ten-Minute Breaks

Those sands that seep unnoticed through the glass
Descend from globe to globe in constant drops;
Minuscule pellets uniformly pass
Until their predetermined hour stops.

Beneath that bright and life-bestowing star,
Diurnal shadows creep across the dial —
The sun that from its circuit never parts
Bequeaths to men the ken of when and while.

The hand that circumnavigates the clock
Will pause from time to time, but usually
The ticking stays consistent like a rock,
Insisting ordered uniformity.

Yet in your arms the days and hours flee,
And there I aim to spend eternity.