time is ticking away from me,
as I sit in my window,
a cigarette idly flicked between my fingers
into an ashtray that is overflowing,

how long have I been here?

the seasons change around me,
the daffodils change to sunflowers,
to crisp red autumn leaves swept
across my neighbour’s porch,

it will be winter soon,

children will build snowmen,
their fingers purple from the biting frost,
kisses chanced beneath mistletoe
and tables groaning under the weight of food,

time has gotten away from me,
it is too late now to chase it,
so I shall sit, and flick my cigarette
sitting stiffly in my window
staring blankly through the glass