Time is, time was, time will be again and where has time gone? It
absently slips by. Time is different then I once thought it to be. Time is
fast, slipping away like a leaf caught in autumn's exhale. Time is never
enough when I'm resting beside my love. Time is a torment when the
road has taken me far from her. Time breaths and the children are
men and my parents, are they slowing? I try not to notice Time is a
trickster, as sand is through the hour glass and only a photo reveals
the images of those I love have changed. My men were babies, then
toddlers and boys and time she is a sprinter and I am falling behind in
the race. I stop and straighten and look at the everything that is my life,
what is behind, what it is that surrounds me right now and what is out
there far beyond me. I catch my breath, take up the pace and amble
after my old nemesis time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem