Scrawled there
In pigment
And love
Arcs and lines
A language of hope
And possibility
We learn to speak
In ways elegant
And ignorant
We grow old
Or we don’t
But all of us
We die
In another time
When the pier was planked
And we sailors came
In another time
Oh so long ago
In a world now lost
Water will not run uphill
It will not run fast across a plain
It will not run at all
Where no rain falls
To pick them now
Would be a sin
Though lovely vase
I’d put them in
No matter rooms
They’re brightening
I feel it
Creeping up
From behind
Feel it
Entering me
Affecting me
But in the mirror
The effects of time
Are too subtle
Too slow
They power dreams
Of boyhood flight
To other worlds
Beyond the stars
Over this world
Of heat and sorrow
Which takes so much
Then leaves so little
Pix to Words 