Lost Time

Lost Time


Circles within circles. We move around the sun
marking the ending of each day with the rising moon.
The measured march of time cannot be outrun
leaving us to ask, “How did it get so late so soon?”

Slowly, I become aware that once more I have been
drifting in the ether, somewhere in my thoughts again.
Looking at the clock, I couldn't help but grin.
At least ten minutes lost, as close as I could ascertain.

I wonder if there is a place where misplaced time exists;
a place full of chronographs where lost moments are stored.
Perhaps somewhere in the universe, in a dark abyss,
all the world's lost moments form a treasured hoard.

Do we know, instinctively, that forever has an end
but not until the final grains of missing time have dropped?
If so, then all our daydreams are more than we comprehend.
Without them, we may find that everything has ... stopped.

An entry for September 1st round of "The Not-So-Daily Poem" 
Prompt: Image
You must use the following quote from Dr. Seuss: ”How did it get so late so soon?”
You may not use: tick, tock, minute(s), hour(s), year(s), or birthday.
The poem must be at least 8 lines
Form: Quatrain (abab)
Line Count: 16