Along The Resurrection March Poem by Uriah Hamilton
Along The Resurrection March
Rating: ★5.0
Time is the baby cradle
Turning into a coffin,
Teenagers making love
In the backseat of a car
Becoming an elderly couple
Holding hands in a grocery store,
Time can be a terrible distance
With an incline more steep
Than a mountain peak
Unapproachable by explorers,
Time is the poetry
Of melancholy memories
That must vanish in the grave.
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4/19/2024 3:32:14 PM # 1.0.0.1119
An excellent poem-Time and tide waits for no man.