Piker Press — Weekly Journal of Arts and Literature
April 27, 2026

T.I.M.E. (The Infinite Measure Extinguished)**

Tim Heerdink's poems appear in various journals and anthologies. He is the President of Midwest Writers Guild of Evansville, Indiana.

T.I.M.E. (The Infinite Measure Extinguished)

Wiping off the crud from my dish
'til that sparkle once lost returns
so I can see my withered reflection
& put it away for another day.

Time waits for nothing when it draws
the sand up from your hand & out
glass each hour allowed to expire
without acknowledgement of worth.

Don't steal this precious currency from me
when every time I close a lid,
my children are bigger
& eventually won't need my hand.

We all want to live forever,
but what does forever mean
when everything you need
is always out of reach?







More by Tim Heerdink → More poetry → Full issue →
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