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Hour Glass

A Poem by:

Anna Copeland

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Copyright shall at all times remain vested in the Author. No part of the work shall be used, reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the Author's express written consent.

Sand through an hour glass,

steady flow of grit,

form mountain shape.

Tick away moments,

till last grain falls.


Time now still,

sand on bottom,

turn over,

new moments tick,

stream from top again.


Over and over,

clock will stop and start.

Time in your hands.

Master the operation,

control your life.


Anna Copeland
Copyright © 2000

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(The Background image on this page was made from a painting by the talented artist Tom Miller.)