Moons

Moons rise and fall, rise and fall slivers, parts, full. Coyotes yip and howl in the screaming passage of softly passing night. Time escapes leaving us only symbols as its mark and outside is the big rush and blood-red tide. Inside, we watch the tick-tick-tick of it all, carried along. The only ones counting.

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Gry Christensen

Date: 12/8/2021 12:51:00 AM

This poem really speaks to me. I truly like the imagery and emotions it evoke. The rush, the turmoil and the ways of nature in our world, and yet the softly but rapid tic-tics of minutes , hours, days and months passing inside our walls....."where did the time go?"

Chetta Achara

Date: 9/27/2021 5:03:00 PM

I like this poem. Sadly we are aware of the passage of time....

Douglas Brown
Date: 10/1/2021 10:18:00 AM

Thank you. But we can make time too! I have to write something about that.