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Sighs of Time
December 10, 2014
Time is slipping,
shipping away glorious moments
And I can see the lights, I can smell the buds
Of last May, when my friends all gathered under the
Tipsy umbrella, wobbling in the breeze. They
Looked so happy – groups of chatter and passionate debate and -
Now the lawn is overgrown
Empty chairs lie water-soaked, abandoned next to
Wilting flowers. All my friends are gone.
and I can hear the quiver of the wire fence against the wind.
© Angela W., Atlanta, GA
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