Poem: April 19, 2019

Making the Most

Our seconds pass so cheaply,
day to day. We have so many-
86,400 every Tuesday. Really.
Such wealth. More than one
can know what to do with,
more than enough to give
away, or to spend in frivolous
ways, and those who say that
we must treat every second
as a precious gift, that we
must make the most of every
passing moment, must have
other vast, even unlimited,
resources: infinite energy,
deep pockets, strong self-
discipline, and interesting
friends. The rest of us must
be content to lose our time
irresponsibly, casting our
attention and our talents into
the rushing and cluttered
streams of our existence,
drinking too much and
forgetting, sleeping late and
watching just to watch, and
if we are wise, we will try
to find just one precious
second every day, one second
in 86,400 that we pinch as
tightly as a penny, and hide
away like echoes in a vault.