Ticking

Anticlimactic ending
Of arbitrary time
Another rusty rung
Of this exhausting climb

Time keeps on ticking
Or stretching, some say
As the universe expands
A billion miles each day

Today’s the same as tomorrow
Yesterday was already wrote
From a distant perspective
Our galaxy shrinks to a mote

A tiny hiccup of cosmic time
Nothing today matters one whit
Distant sons might race light
Or perhaps will huddle and spit

But we mark today nonetheless
As we ride this marble of rock
Count down to twenty-seventeen
Watching seconds on the clock

“I will see you next year”
Or so my younger self would say
Though I prefer to think of
Tomorrow as just another day