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Saturday, September 18, 2010

Magpie Tales 32






Time

A stingy creation of man
himself—

we are cursed
by its gritty currency
that will not be told
to sit still or held
but sifts through the fingers
and is lost in yesterday
and the days before
until reduced to memories
or specks of sand
one indistinguishable
moment from the other.


© 2010 Michael A. Wells

Magpie Tales 32

9 comments:

Helen said...

Your Magpie brought time to life!

Tumblewords: said...

Excellent magpie!

Unknown said...

"gritty currency"
loved that...


Rene

Kathe W. said...

nicely done- gritty currency!

steviewren said...

Gritty currency that sifts through the fingers to be lost in memories as indistinguishable as specks of sand...your poem conjures up powerful, poignant word pictures.

Priyanka Bhowmick said...

beautiful and true!

Tess Kincaid said...

A gritty currency, indeed! Beautiful, beautiful piece, Michael.

Anonymous said...

masterful, beautiful, and wonderful!

kathi harris said...

Yes, so much time passes that we can't remember a lot of it.