|
|||||||||||||||
|
|||||||||||||||
|
|
oh, try to pin Time down and It will run from you screaming giddily like a lunatic good luck with It you can't fill up a life with experiences to slow Its plunging progress you can't sew up the unraveling seams of your past they'll continue to straggle behind you, puzzle you even I can't freeze It keep those dear closer with their hearts alive, beating prevent the frantic alterations Time engineers hold fast the sweeter moments of sunlight, youth, even the queerer tricks of memories I see It lumbering backward/forward wearing Its Jester's garb could it be am I the real fool as I age becoming rueful, sentimental, filled with regrets perhaps even rage Time is never through with me and yet, always taunting: "Try, catch Me! " as It cackles with glee while my heart-shaped net captures only air a silent hollow place where Time dissolves into Its echoes and shadows Time, Time, Time what does become of us bewildered I seek inward, upward and will not find It I don't know what It is that I am supposed to know and understand tell me there is more to It than nothing. Melissa A Howells retains all Legal Copyright for this work, this site title by this author/writer. Meloo/Melissa A. Howells Straight from her Tilt-a-World 8:46am/ October 27, 2016 time/date stamped for Legal Copyright Vote for this poem |
|