Think of it as syncopation. The jig is almost up

And Father Time goes pounding down a dusty road

When a furtive rat lickety-splits across Time's path

And an uncoupled train staggers off the track.

While Father Time pounds down the dusty road

A gusty wind whips up his duster.

The recoupled train clackety-clacks down the track

And dust-devils whirl and twirl behind it.

A spray of wet arrows dampens Time's duster as

A sprinkler truck forces him to hop the curb

And the dust-devils fall beneath its spray

As if the jig were already up. Now Time

Resumes his stride far behind the sprinkler truck.

A marmalade cat streaks past a startled Time.

It looks as if the jig is up. But time revives,

And so do you. Think of it as syncopation.