Tick tock, tick tock sounding the wall-bound clock’s a ‘rounding reminding me of time’s old pedigree of ancient dead kings’ and queens’ crowning. Many a ruler yet none a master, the youth they’ll cry, “We want it all faster” The old they lament for all of time were spent for a wasted visage, the proud detriment. For the leafy green rising up in spring borrowed time afforded to their zing at the end of the day is taken away sequestrated for a debt, forced to pay. Time for all of Earth’s creatures to which they owe their features the gift of life once done they must acquiesce for the return to dust.
Giuseppe Gillespie – June 2021
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Giuseppe Gillespie Writing 