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as the days, months, and seasons
go flying by
i must declare that
these hours
grow l o n g e r, somehow
while life passes and the days
are full with so much to do
the calendar
still reads September, one
l o n g, l a g g i n g day
at a time, and
sleep comes s o s l o w l y
each night lying in wait
for the turning page of time
will this temperate month
-so beautiful early fall-
EVER END?
as each year it does
far too quickly
how many times
have i wished to STOP
the clock, now
it seems lives pass between
it chimes

Hi heatherly ~

I know it's a "least of which" comment to make about your poem, but I like the technique you use for showing slowed-down time. As one interested in the passage of this dimension ~ time ~ I really like your poem.

~ Lizzytysh

I am lost. How can the days months and seasons be going so fast but you feel September is so long. Is there some conflict going on for you? Is there a reason why you don't want Septemebr to pass?