I see Time
In its singular plurality
Each time differently
Either short and fat
Rolling down
Gathering dross
A bundle of laughs
Into a valley of tears
Or part of a table
High enough to do something
On the agenda
Some Times
Go missing
When out for a walk in the woods
Lost
In search of the forgotten
Found on the last page
Too late
Sometimes
It can be long
Dragging
Its sinewy bulk
Hard to chew on
Too slow
Watching paint dry
Then suddenly,
Not waving, but running
Taking off
Flying
Not stopping for me to catch up
No comments:
Post a Comment