Time, the ghost
we befriend
hoping
it visits often
Time, we lose
befriending phantoms
slipping through fingers, grasping
disconnected grains of sand
Time, we expect
will bring life
instead, life we lose
grasping at time
Poetic Alchemist
Poetry by Don Iannone
Let’s see…
oh yeah…
it sure does slip away, don’t it?
what’s time anyway… i wonder…
Thanks Andrew and Kai. Appreciate your comments.
beautiful:)
For some reason, time has really been on my mind recently — this poem says it all.