Time Down

Write the times down on your wrists
With indelible ink
Or how fast do you think
All this dye may dry?

Soon the Summer leaves
Again
Halls of crystal violet balls bursting into shining song
Wait so long for wistful rains
Will old dreams wash down the drains

Someone scratches trains off lists
Another ticket insists
It's time to swim or sink

All this dye may dry
Or how fast do you think?
With indelible ink
Write the times down on your wrists . . .



Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 1281 times
Written on 2016-02-24 at 00:42

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Old memories never wash down drains, they just dilute a little, in my opinion.
2016-02-24