Poet of the River (july 27 1994 / California, but move around a lot.)
Hands of time (thought)
The candle lit, the fire ablaze.
on the table i sit, counting the days.
as time expands, and days grow colder,
the chill of hands, as the bones grow older.
the simple desire, to warm to your fill.
the warmth of the fire, to bite back the chill.
smile and savor, the warming chance.
hands waver, as the flames dance.
and winter becomes spring again.
Comments about this poem (Hands of time (thought) by Poet of the River )
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley