“Dance of Time”, a poem by Gregg Hake
Waters move beneath me
As I sit upon the dock
That stretched obligingly
From the edge of the pond.
The shifting winds ruffle
Its reflective visage
With wispy wrinkles,
But only for a moment.
The dance of time,
Of youth and golden age
Betides before me―
In the evening light.
Thank you for such exquisite words betiding the sublime.
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Lovely visual, a painting with words!
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