Crawling after time, but time raced on ahead.
His arms tried to do the work that his legs had given up on.
He was out of breath.
Feeling a pinch of desperation under his ribs, but ignoring it.
He dug his fingers into black dirt to pull himself forward, but it was too late.
The sun was low enough on the horizon now that he felt as if he could reach out to it.
He clasped his muddied hands together and begged for another try.
Another day to get things right.
But the evening light turned its back and disappeared.
He dropped his head into the dirt, dismayed.
It had been a cruel day.
Maybe the night would show mercy.
But the moon merely lulled him into a soft sleep.
Covering him in its silver blanket.
When morning came, she peeled back the moon’s covers with her warm light.
Unveiling not only him, but the many who had chased after yesterday – for he was not alone.
And morning would raise the weary that evening had neglected.
With the promise that she’d always come back for them.
Pleading with them, “never give up, wait for me.”