poetry – Page 98 – Picking Up Roots

Marching On

time
it will not stand still,
it will not stop its steady march
forward,
always in motion onward,
rolling over all in its path,
there can be no delay -

we may tire,
we may stop
or be slowed,
we may fall,

time marches on,
so too, must we

Word Types

I'm not worried
about drippy imagery,
lines oozing flowery description;
what matters,
what's important to me
are the words,
that they are real,
that they capture
the gray of existence,
making you pause
to think about what is,
what might have been,
and what could be;
those are the the types of words
that are important to me

Let Go

the dark curtain
of a bruised night sky
falls over the tumult 
of another wasted day
spent tangled in worry
over events
beyond our control;

when will we learn
to free ourselves,
to let go