My love, travel to me quickly for time


strikes like a ruler slapped on a pupil's hand.


Put work aside, worry, too, all the Midwest


Presbyterian principles I once loved you for


and still do. I have learned there's more


to our being here, so tenuous and brief,


than securing sums for retirement. After that, we'll be


past caring about all we own save each other,


hand to hand, and what we may have stored


from the grind, grit, from gratifying sweet


instances, compounded through desire and will.


Tick tick goes the time clock. I hear it


in the recent statements of our industry,


collected fast in a binder like a rebuke.


We want to hear what you think about this article. Submit a letter to the editor or write to letters@theatlantic.com.