Poetry: The days have passed
Forty-three years I have seen.
Many roads I have traveled;
Seeding goodness and weeding badness.
Forging ahead, and then lagging behind.
How quickly the seconds, minutes, hours and days have come.
I wonder where I spent it;
Infancy, childhood, or adulthood?
It's lost to the yester-years,
Caught between day and night.
They slumber in quiet repose?
Oh days, how dare you pass when I wasn't looking.
Gray hair creeps in and wrinkles leave their mark.
Skin dances upon my supple body, draping my arms like curtains.
Were I vain I'd cover the mirrors, but I'm a realist.
Soon I'll be in the eve of my years.
On a front porch, with weathered rocker, I'll cover many miles.
As memory fades and twilight rises,
I'll sleep the sleep of death.
Yes, the days will have passed.
Learn more about this author, Melissa R. Bickel.
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