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(4 April 1928)

California Prodigal

The eye follows, the land
Slips upward, creases down, forms
The gentle buttocks of a young
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Comments about this poem (Passing Time by Maya Angelou )

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  • Patricia Grantham (6/17/2013 6:58:00 PM)

    Enjoyed this elegant write. Takes me back to
    days of old. Old landmarks of hills, mountains,
    valleys, etc. has all of the markings of things past.
    They can't be erased by the hands of time. An
    inspiring write.

    5 person liked.
    0 person did not like.

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