My seconds graze
the clock hands’ shade
A mind’s race goes for daze
Suns rays erase a watch’s stain
Even on the glare’s long days,
Our shadowplay moves yesterdays
To powdered futures, bronzed and glazed
A moment grows yet remains the same
Posted by mg92mx on May 23, 2015 in Journal Entries, Writings
Tags: Change, free verse, growth, Poems, rhyme, time, Writing
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