there is sadness in empty time
marked by irreversible movement
of hands that cannot be rewound
tracking in relentless orbit
forward, forward, forward
not noticing the swallow on the hedge
not pausing at the sparkling brook
not hearing the rustle of yellow rattle
playing music in the meadow
not understanding this is it
that here might be happiness
~
CLP 10/06/2021
Journey of Words 