Smita Tewari

Hourglass

Slowly, I watch the hours go by, in the hourglass,
step by step, I see the sand going down,
and I wish time would return from the clock to me, myself.

The pale light of dawn falls into my palm, then into night and later
while the world sleeps, thoughts return as soft curling waves,
hanging like a gleam of a lamp on my hazy veil.

All colours fade away into the dark, till the glass changes its shadow
falling upon the wall, waiting to see myself at a remove,
as time slips past me, away from me, in the hourglass before me.