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Category: Sub Category: Poetry |
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Clinging to Time
He stopped and wavered – once again I’m caught,
The time was spent in dark maroon desire.
He halted here as color changed my veins,
I’m simply singed when brought too close to fire.
I said, “It looks like beauty never ends.”
I felt at one with limbs that were aflower.
Moments flew and numbers lost their meaning,
Bright green maples never count the hour.
I hung on in the aimless winds of fall,
Exposed to sun and rain, I turned to red;
Then letting go and drifting on the truth,
A clinging scarlet leaf at last was shed.
my original poem 2004
DMC |
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