Life

The race of the baby is not apt to last long!
Bare foot upon an ancient trail;
But now and then an elder sets the course.
The dignitaries have risen!
Have taken their place. 
Does she become a chaste woman? 
Unable to be photographed or reproduced;
Not her features or expression,
Nor the wondrous light which she bares.
For life is least vital of herself!
Her present is a Husk.
Her past a romance. 
Her future unknown!

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018




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