The Dawn

Like the coming of the dawn
Yesterday is gone,
So, we must continue on
Either with a nudge or with a yawn.

The wind will continue blowing
And the grass growing,
Even though our days are slowing
To ourselves we are owing.

Some days we are encumbered
Days we quickly plundered,
Life we have erred and blundered
Our days all are numbered.

Randy L. McClave
Monday, March 7, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: life,life and death,past
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