Tuesday, August 29, 2017


It's like one endless carnival of loss
As age increases and time moves along
The choices we made & the dice we tossed
Are now inexorably set in stone

Like a wreath that's tossed and a wreath that's           thrown
At a wedding and times of burial
I sit in a comfy chair on my own
And I in no way do complain at all

As we age all things are stripped away
Our friends are gone, even the most loyal
Dry leaves of fall are dropping in the bay
In the sun and sky we see what's royal   

As we search the sky when dawn is nigh
A matter clean and true we might derive                                                      

(C)2017 by W.G. Milne

                        This one's unfinished and needs work, but better I store it here than on the madness of my desk.

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