My job takes my time.
No skill, no product –
only hours of my life.
Most of my life.
The world is spinning.
Grass is growing.
Trees are reaching to the sky.
Birds are singing.
My kids are becoming adults.
My body no longer looks like mine.
Friends and family are dying.
The sun rises and the sun sets.
I see spring and summer and fall
and winter and spring and summer
and fall and winter pass me by
through the window by my desk
and as my employer walks down the hall
and by my open door
I say,
“Please sir, may you take some more?”