The Passing Year

Should I shed a tear

For the dying year?

I survived a brain abscess

And lived to see the tree undress

In autumn.

My hair has longed turned white.

I can not fight

The passage of time.

Yet take delight

In this brief rhyme

Of life.

All things pass.

Yet my glass

Is at least half full.

The weather is dull

But I still hear the steady tick tock

Of the clock

On the wall

And relish these fallen leaves

For I, as they

Must pass away.

	RasmaSandra on The Passing Year
	beth on The Passing Year
	K Morris Poet on Cupid’s Bow
	V.M.Sang on Cupid’s Bow
	K Morris Poet on With the Dark

K Morris – Poet