You have tried calendars, and
a house bedecked in post-its.
I know. Try to put a collar on time,
it sheds all over your furniture.

You think time is:
You think life is:
The sun goes down,
the dew comes up.

You think time is:
You think life is:
Two hours with a movie.
Four hours with an amusement park.
Six with a car ride.

You think time is
an anxious pet
fed and watered
who lives in the same house
and sleeps in a different bed
who sometimes needs to be let outside.

That is not what time is about.
Time is about
a rusty cabinet door that squeaks when you open it.
A squeak you never noticed before.
Time is about,
when you have piled enough leaves enough autumns,
your heart makes the sound of a spoon in a teacup,
and then where do you go?
Sweden?