Done Poem by Sandra Feldman
Done
Our thinking matter moves in constant flux,
Our lives a passing moment, inner space,
Our thoughts and deeds, sometimes human disgrace,
Then all is gone, the end of every race.
Sunday, July 16, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: life
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4/24/2024 12:09:51 AM # 1.0.0.1119
You take the reader very succinctly from the silent motion of the internal process of being to a sudden panoramic glimpse of humanity. The vertigo creates a space for contemplation of much meaning in a small space. Nicely accomplished, Sandra; an enjoyable piece to meditate upon.