Hourglass Poem by Kurt Philip Behm

Hourglass



On the quietest of nights
I can now hear its roar

This current hides calmly
what fate has in store

Its crashing is consummate,
my drowning awaits

Last bend now approaching
—the hour grows late

(Villanova Pennsylvania: August: 2020)

Monday, August 10, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: fate
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success