Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Like Leaves in Autumn

Where does the hour go?

(when we turn the clock ahead
and that hour just evaporates
like a summer puddle on a hot sidewalk
here, then gone...

no memory of it...
no moments, no minutes

just a sense that it was here
like a long dead relative in an old photograph
touching on some part of you you can't define)

Where are all those hours I spent with you?

(turning the clock ahead
watching those moments blow away
like leaves in autumn

they were here
I have some sense of them...

but now they're gone)

Where have all those moments gone?

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