
Now adds to measured Time in mind of man.
One more year [s]tumbles onto solstice brink,
Turns towards millenia billions scan.
Hope’s rising generation soon sees sink,
Ending, one strong before its seed began,
Relearning this : "I am because I think"
As one September spins predestined plan,
Names one September more Time’s f[l]ame would ink.
One further breeze haphazard blows to fan
The fires of Fate which somehow interlink
Here light Time’s treadmill, spinning through its span.
Ends one loose line to tie these thoughts’ terse tale,Reeled threads unwind another fresher trail ...







(LISA)







11 old applause, 3 applause
