Tuesday, April 3, 2018

THE TIME TO STAY IS PASSED/Imaginary gardens with real toads --napowrimo


Sometimes it seems
We are just digging holes
And filling them up
Collecting memories

Of days gone by
Stuck on the refrigerator
Stickers and tickets
Photos of someone

Seasons come and go
Snow falls on spring
Summer a blink
Soon it is winter again
With its chilly shadows

Like a ride on a merry-go-round
We travel the same road
Over and over
Never getting anywhere
Just getting older

Unlike Gypsies
Whose adventures are always
Someplace interesting
Never put down roots
Home is wherever they are

The boxes are packed
A wishbone included
Loaded into the truck
The time to stay is passed

April 3, 2018

Come into the light
Give up your hiding
Guessing games are tiring
Chilled to the bone

April 3, 2018


brudberg said...

The passing of time seems to go so fast these days.

Sanaa Rizvi said...

I agree with Bjorn, it seems time nowadays is slipping right out of our hands.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Wow, I just posted my poem, which I wrote yesterday, and it had a gypsy in it, and talk of always moving......I saw Shay's poem had a gypsy too, so I changed mine to vagabond. We are all on the same frequency, it would appear. I love this poem of reflection.........we have learned to live lightly tethered, at our age, I think.

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

I particularly love the detail of the wishbone included.

Christmas Comes Slowly/dVerse/early

Christmas Comes Slowly I avoid what comes too early Instead will wait for Christmas A long wait indeed But send my love for now ...