Glass Gold Poets

You’ll be frozen in time
And if the past may serve
As an indication
I’ll be hurled forward, upward
With lightning’s speed

I at ninety-something years 
And you at something less
(Though an old soul nonetheless)
Staring at my golden scraps
Through your monocle glass

What words are we, then
What sounds, what sights
What wrongs did we choose to correct 
What hands did we not fail to hold
What love, of only this, I’m sure

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s