They call time a race.
Frank does what he can to dance,
charge through days like a great Dane.
Hours lean
in to watch my lad
say yes to a dare,
choose Velcro over a shoelace.
There is no time to clean
the path in front of him. I ran
slowly, pretending I was real,
looking for a time-bending clan.

© Carl Burkitt 2023