TIME IS NEVER-ENDING

 TIME IS NEVER-ENDING

It’s very early in the morning, still dark outside.Sitting here sipping my morning coffee. It’s raining, heavy at times. Looking out my studio window there’s no movement, no lights, just blackness. I’ve been sitting looking at a blank screen waiting for the words to come. Yesterday afternoon we drove through pouring rain to my niece’s home some thirty miles away to celebrate our family Thanksgiving.  There were only a few in attendance. The years have taken their toll. Death has not been the cause, but rather social issues, divorces,  and failed relation ships. Someone gets a divorce, and the social network, the bubble ,one might call it, bursts, and someone gets left out taking with them children, and their relatives. Seems to be the way these days. Where, at one time, marriages were built on the welfare of the children, and life do us part, it didn’t matter whether the relationship was good, or bad, or indifferent, things held together. Now, a slip of the tongue, is a reason for divorce. Still, the dinner , and the get together was quite nice, a memory, something to hold onto as I slip slide into probable oblivion. The dinner also helped me to reinforce my thoughts about ageing, and how, with the passing of time, any influence that we might have had ,slowly disappears. We become like shadows. It doesn’t matter who , or whom, you were, you become less and less important, and then you’re gone, absent from future Thanksgiving dinners. Importance, not so important as we thought. Morning is breaking. As I was writing, distracted by thought, the darkness was replaced by light. Time for a second cup, time to try to make use of my time, never-ending is time, but my time soon ending.