Listen to poem:
Broken Time
*Image of Shattered Time by dreamstime
Broken Time
Its hands went frozen a warm summer June,
Bought it new when cool though it waned since then,
Days were young and fresh loved e'er so oft loom,
Vivid hues displayed stills toured page again.
Surged wave tickles feet, residual foams,
A swept updraft breaths as white floats thither,
A thoughtless lapse inside watery zones,
Checked, still ticking, stoppage, not a whisper.
An off-Broadway show, we took the backstreet,
Save being noted, the maddening crowd,
Numbers by one less the proper count sheet,
I look, it is time, lifts the curtained shroud.
Crumpled real, keepsake be, not a myth,
My minuteman whose Father Time, kept with.
2019 September 23
*2nd Place*
In the backstreets of my mind
~~Silent One: Judged 2019 September 26
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