Time steals youth like waves thief the soil
and mushes it to slushy silt
Visions once strong as oxen gait
fade like leaves on autumn trees wilt.
Time’s a crude fire; smelts love from a heart
fond moments from minds like copper from bronze
extracting core Truth from precious al-loys
some rivers turn streams, some oceans turn ponds
Time is...water carried in a wicker basket absent-mindedly handled as if the vessel would miraculously retain the inevitable...
Copyright 2010 K. Omodele