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I was looking through my collection of poetry and noted for the record quite a few that had to do with time, the ravages of time, or clocks. Why?

I don’t know. It could have something to do with my age, but I’ll leave that discussion for the another…ahem…time.

Anyway, here are three haiku for the 3rd day of the 2nd month.

I’m done, he whispered
The folds of skin collapse in
Stories told alone

Spin the web daily
Catch time like flies; die quickly
Suck dry this life’s work

“When will it happen?”
Ask I from the depths of pain.
Silence is not gold

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Benjamin ran with scissors when he was five. He now writes. Follow him at or on Twitter @bxwretlind