Time flies

In response to Chris’s response

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So little time we have,

and yet it streams

between the fingers and the toes,

dredged like muddy rivers,

dark and unmarked with any glitter.

Time, a wheel of stars

out of reach,

we watch, open-mouthed,

the slow, majestic roll of the sky,

and when we look down

and fix again upon the ground beneath our feet,

the season’s changed,

and red leaves blow

where green shoots shone.

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Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

8 thoughts on “Time flies”

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