WHAT TIME IS IT?
What time is it?
Having satisfied my question
I wonder who is looking
And is there someone looking back at me
Hung high above the side street
We stroll hand in hand
Lovers once
Up close the years show in your face
Like the numbers on the face of the clock
There is no going back
Life is a one way street
That flow is south
Through the dry desert
Even goes underground
Perhaps even forgets
I glance at the clock again
Only runs one way
Fun to see you once again
Sometimes old memories
Remain forever
June 2, 2018
This is beautifully evocative!💜 Especially love the 3rd stanza…
Thanks for your comments.
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Thank you so much Sanaa.
Clocks move forward, time moves forward…as does life. I love the forward motion of this.
Thanks for your comment, Vivian.
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Ha, I thought I commented on this. I love “the years show in your face.” I love the line about life being a one way street through the desert, sometimes going underground.
Yes, Sherry you did. I also posted on Somethingithinkabout-annell-annell.blogspot.com Because it is connected with my own website.
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kaykuala
Fun to see you once again
Sometimes old memories
Remain forever
There are occasions that provoke to bring back memories. It happens when one bumps into someone unexpectedly.! It is a nice feeling, annell!
Hank
Thank you Hank.
I like the way you start your poem with the time-old question, which illustrates humans’ preoccupation with a man-made concept. I love the nostalgia of the second stanza, especially the lines:
‘Up close the years show in your face
Like the numbers on the face of the clock
There is no going back’.
Thanks for your comment, Kim.
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Yes, time is a one way street.. with never a minute to lose in appreciating those who travel a way with us.
Perhaps we only know, when we really have so little? Thanks Kerry.
This is a truth telling poem…savoring it. Love it!
Thank you Sabra.
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I did not find your write?
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Yes, I visited your blog just because. 🤓
Thank you so much Sabra, please come back!
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Will do.
Excellent writing indeed. Second stanza, the most central, I think, is my favorite. I’ve experienced that myself.
It happens. Thanks Ron.