Thoughts Iii Poem by Olly Rowland

Time moves forward and drags us parallel to it. We are but the weathering of ancient tides. Rocks fall, salt the sea and build life from its cold beginnings to its frozen present. As the spring comes, the ice melts to reveal the hours, minutes and seconds wasted by myself and the people around me. The sun tells us this. We’ve missed the heat against our skin, and the comfort that comes from a morning sun. It will be months until we feel the cold again.