Page 14--Time Trap--Dan Cirilo

Time, the master thief, sits like a Black Widow
in a dark corner, still as Death, & waits patiently.
knowing all will come, all feel the sting of her fangs,
all succumb to her poison, all without exception.
for it is we who spin the web that entangles us
in the insanity of an abstract concept.
from the untroubled cocoon of the womb
our children emerge in innocence,
from the silken warmth of now
they are born into a moment of chaos
&, in their exit, enter a gallows
where a noose of linear events
slips insidiously 'round their necks
marking the beginning, not of their lives,
but of the countdown to their deaths...
minute, hour, day, month, year, century;
all recorded before the mother can soothe,
suckle, or cradle her newborn babe.
so begins the flow of sand; the tick, tick, tick
of the seconds that are left...
we are sucked dry of life & left as empty,
discarded husks, hanging by a thread,
&, eventually, blown away.
& the Black Widow, Time, waits
hidden in darkness; invisible except for
the strange, blood-filled tattoo
of an hourglass.