• Tricia D. Wagner

Witching the Stars #41

Updated: Nov 1

I catch in hand, toad-like, this hour,

and like a toad, it hops away.

I grasp the minutes, slipping, dewy -

from my palms, takes flight the day.

The past - departed, yet I see it,

rich with detail, scrolling sly.

And future dreams, though non-existent

cast their spell and charm my eye.

Where, then, dwell I? What, my country?

Nothing I can comprehend.

So. Glide I through rough seas untroubled,

watching time, my vessel bend.

© 2015 by Tricia D. Wagner. Proudly created with Wix.com

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