Time Forgotten
A gatherer whistles an old air
His scythe glides a perfect sweep
The stems fall and then lay there
Like soldiers all gone to sleep
Moments they before the blade
Deftly laid one by one
Moments as the memories made
With time would now be gone
But leaving something of a kind
Perhaps some distant smile begotten
Lost to that old and aging mind
Are the times of time forgotten
Copyright © Richard Karr | Year Posted 2013
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