carlespiemaryalice

19,358 Days

Time is a thief.
It steals the little things that are the spices of life.
I do not remember the song of my mama’s voice.

Time never stops marching.
It does not even look back as it rolls on.
It marches on as if she were never here.

Time stands still.
I still see her cry for him not to stab her not knowing he was going to shoot her instead.
Eleven times.
The image of that moment stands still in my heart.

Time never moves backward.
So that I can beg her to stay away …
run farther away than she did and leave us so that she might live –
maybe 19,358 more days.

Time runs out.
She died before her grandchildren entered this world so that they might know the warmth of her hugs.
It ran out before I was able to “get bigger” and save her from him.

Oh, if only I could be its master, time would have been,
if not a friend, at least a kinder and more gentle enemy.