I see in the mirror the old man I will become
Like a child watching the last days of summer
Slipping through arms outstretched and grasping
Has it all been a wasted fading-light afternoon
Or is the inevitable end of childhood and youth
Simply too close for sober clear-eyed perspectives
Only time will tell, and she keeps her secrets close
Even as we, Red Queens all, must run ever faster
Just to keep pace with an accelerating world
March 21, 2015
From “Mirrors of March” by Altos Wexan
Posted by alexp01 under Excerpt | Tags: Altos Wexan, fiction, poetry, story |Leave a Comment
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