Time

It drinks down my life in huge gulping drags and when I look in the fridge, the milk is always just about empty.
It rolls down the road at super high speeds and when I check the tank, the gas is always just about gone.
It climbs the stairs two-by-two to the very top and when I stop, my heart is racing and I can't catch my breath.
When I get to the bottom again, doubled over, hands on knees, gasping--its back in the fridge.

Then, just when I think I've reached the edge of the edge--the milk, the gas, and my breath gone--I realize
It sure tastes good, the speed is exhilirating and the view is simply and heart-wrenchingly beautiful.