Sign (Poetry)

It’s almost time — and they each know it
try not to dwell
but the clock still ticks
and the calendar turns another page
all those numbers tell
the same story.

No big surprise — how could there be? —
they have grown old
and there is only one ending now
all these years are gone as though
dissolved away
when they were hardly looking...

Sometimes it’s hard to see
where life went —
they glance at each other
furtively
and try to calculate
the odds of making it through

to the other side of Christmas
survive into the New Year
and cross that narrowed bridge of hours
with its arching shadows
where a sign hangs almost hidden —
NO THROUGH ROAD