There was a time in my life,
when I could run forever;
when I could work all day,
at my perceived endeavor.
But that time has passed away,
I'm content that it's expired;
now I do the little things,
that my heart's inspired.
A walk, a hike, a ramble,
viewing scenes as they roll by;
watch clouds that chase the sun,
in that inverted dome, called sky.
Today, it was a roadrunner,
that scurried in my sight;
that stayed fifty yards ahead,
unconcerned about its plight.
He finally wandered off,
made his own trail in the grass;
now a fleeting image,
soon it too, will pass.
David Lessard's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Time passages... by David Lessard )
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