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Time Soldiers On

Irregardless of effort or desire, we can't stop time. Weeks fall into months, seasons stream past like runaway trains, stamping birthdays on calendars, etching wrinkles on skin, planting age spots everywhere. The galloping gobbler moves ever onward, with sharpened blade, to slice away memories, and bestow; weaker eyesight, diminishing strength, brain skips, plus popping joints. Alas, twilight stops soon for thee, Twilight stops, now, for me. cfa ? 9/2/2012 Revised 4/20/2014

Copyright © | Year Posted 2014




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Date: 8/15/2016 9:27:00 PM
Hi! Great poem. Great description. And so true.
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Cona Adams
Date: 8/16/2016 8:03:00 AM
Thank you so much Carole, for the visit. Always a pleasure to connect with a fellow souper. Have a great week!
Date: 12/11/2014 2:09:00 PM
LOL. I certainly hope so. But that "old dog" fits to a T.
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Date: 12/11/2014 1:14:00 PM
I have a strong, sneaking suspicion that there is: "Life in the old dog" yet. Madam! My very best regards.....john :)
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Book: Reflection on the Important Things