Know Not The Day Poem by Aaron Graham

As time’s rhythm Drums a painful
Toll on us all We busy ourselves
In wait but never know When it will arrive.
It arrives on time as the unexpected always do.
And departs to soon, as the desired always seem.
Now the train is gone.
Were you at school?

Our train is gone now.

And my brother writes beautiful poetry.
Our train is gone and marry has torn her red dress.
The train is gone, and Ember months blaze all the same
But they have sold us tickets, to watch sailors tell sea stories,
We bought cause our village lies at the bottom of a mountain.
Where we still pray before and after meals.
It is an album full of old-fashioned pictures

Squirrels gather, eat, gather, save, and gather nuts…
Here, she still speaks very indistinctly
There, you can still see he had life’s fire in his eyes.
Your train has gone.
Were you at school?