The Shape of Time
- Nick McReynolds
- May 26
- 1 min read
Time shrinks
in the grip of monotony,
stretches wide
in the hands of joy.
Look back
you don’t remember dates,
you remember
what made them matter.
No sparks,
and the days blur like rain
on glass.
Months drift.
We rise,
work,
watch,
sleep.
Repeat.
But if you want more time,
make it count.
Breathe color into the gray.
Do something
anything
and time will unfold
like it’s waiting for you.
