Time; God’s Great Thing.
A dream spinner,
a way to heal, to transform.
Where, in the long stretches,
do moments turn into memory?
August Popsicles dripping down a summer dress
Rusty, breezy Octobers,
Chilly Novembers giving way to winter,
and those nights I used to write and write.
Countless seasons have passed me by,
I am left clinging to childhood, to a carefree
sense of wild freedom,
of so much time to do so much,
and now, too many distractions,
and too little time.