Time Passes

The New Year slipped sinuously in
As the old slunk self conciously away
Insinuating its longings and desires
For that, for this and the next.
The grey, damp new day
Revealed by the passing of the
Grey, damp old day.

At least the prospect of winters desperate grip
Brings thoughts and aspirations
Of the renewal remembered and lived
In all those soft edged times past
The grey, damp new day
Evokes little of that hope
Except a grey, damp new hope.

No snow, no ice, no freezing winter chill
Burning deeply into the best wrapped bone
No frozen rivers dripping down inside the window
Distorting the bright and painful whiteness
Just a grey, damp new day
That holds no fecund promise from the past
Or for the grey, damp new future.

Time Passes

BurtleBard

Burtle, United Kingdom

  • Artist
    Notes
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