What am I but a speck of dust
On Father Time's glass figurine collection?
What am I but a drop of dew
On Father Time's enormous backyard?
What am I but a tiny thing?
And yet I hold a mass of THINGS
THINGS like love and THINGS like hate
THINGS like awe and THINGS like fear
All these THINGS will be with me
Until I finally stop to rest
Father Time will decide to clean
And the sun will come out to dry the lawn
In that moment, I will freeze
I will try to stand my ground
One moment later, swept away
And evaporated into the air
There will be others after me
Nothing can ever be dustless
And the dew comes with every dawn
And they will have their THINGS as well
Author notes
iv.
“every shadow, footprint, stain, regret, and sorrow
captured in one moment
when i became a sponge: frozen”
I credit Tangled Angle for the prompt
A contest entry
- Top Secret - Mission 1 by Tangled Angle.
300 points, ended July 25, 2008, 9 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
How about THAT?
Comments
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awesome interpretation ur so deep!
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you have very interesting thoughts, did you know that? nice write
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