Trevor Toews Poems
- Clockwise The world is turning clockwise, and the ticking ...
- The Unborn Child The unborn child, As she waits in darkness...
- To Rome How many of these gleaming, lifeless stones, Will ...
- Transcendent Love Have you ever been alone at night, ...
- Punctuation The devil owns the question mark He wields it ...
- Mind The Space And tomorrow when you wake up Mind the space ...
- The Guardian Back when the mighty Prince of Peace Could be ...
I wasn't born in the mountains, but I got here as fast as I could. Colorado. more »
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Comments about Trevor Toews
The world is turning clockwise,
and the ticking doesn't stop.
The rigid hands, like marching bands,
move forward round the clock.
And desperate backward snatches,
yield nothing in my grasp.
The rolling hearse has no reverse,
that bears away the past.
I'd like to live them over,
those sets of circumstance
When, called to rise and mobilize,
I left it all to chance.
I'd like to seize and salvage,
quick words that I have said,
And in their place, to have the grace,
for kinder ones instead.
The aura of the moment
I failed ...