Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
(Pure Abstraction "Angles," by Olan Smith)
A Fickle Trophy
©2018, Olan L. Smith
I've notice as the century turned
And the more we progress into it
That a hundred years is not nearly
As long as it used to seem, like that
Big tree in the yard that I used to climb
Is not nearly as tall as I remember.
Now, I research family of the nineteenth
Century, pioneer days for them, isn't
That long either―and a thousand year,
Just ten centuries, but my how humans
Civilization changes. Time, is such a
Fickle trophy―you can't hold onto it,
And it doesn't stay put, but how we cherish it.
YOU ARE READING
Is your Blue my Red
RandomI wrote these comments and other random thoughts on Wattpad and elsewhere on the web. I think we as poets have all lost a bit of our soul with the passing of our friend @Lisaner and we are just a bit more mortal and reflective, may we always hold th...
