Time Swiftly Passes By
this morning
i see the child that
he carried
at noontime
the child is a man
anchored to his arms
a pregnant woman
at night
i hear the coughs of same
man same child
same memory
ah, time swiftly passes by
my poem about
him
has become
a brown page
the letters fade
the words
crumple turn to dust
and blown
by the skirts of time
to a never ending horizon
to an open ended
question
of where to
and why
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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