An End to Time

I like putting one foot in front of the other, 
walking at a steady pace until I change 

the speed on the treadmill or come to 
the end of the half-hour. I like wiping down

the silver and putting them back in their 
drawers, but not ironing out the creases

in a shirt. The child asks, is there 
an end of time? It's the kind of question 

that can't be answered. If we knew, the world 
would be a different place entirely. If we knew, 

all measures would be undone. Animals 
would never come out of the sealed caves 

of their hibernation. The last however many 
years of heartache would dissolve like a golden

cube of honey in a glass of tea. The old queen
would leave the hive whenever she wanted to

without being followed by a swarm, without
having to scout for a new home to populate

with food and bodies; without the new queens 
killing each other in order to be the only one.

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