Wasting Time Poem by Theresa Ann Moore

Wasting Time



As meteors enter the atmosphere they blaze
Turning into cinders before reaching earth
A hooting owl ruffles his feathers then shrugs
Cooling enthusiasm results in a lifeless birth

In the blue gray mist of glowing moonlight
The emerging fog limits the desire to advance
Pastel petals cool and pale as condensation beads
Formless shapes put thoughts into a trance

Time is a measure of experience and circumstance
The present filters through a sieve of strength
Interpretation and response determine importance
Days of significance are magnified by length


revised 2/14/2011

4/7/08

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Theresa Ann Moore

Theresa Ann Moore

Michigan, U.S.A.
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