
To Jump on the Wrong Parade
Time is a fugitive,
a swift hand,
sunbeams,
the leaven in dough.
Time is change,
a sprung coil,
a once loved.
It’s a day,
a lifetime,
a reach.
It’s sand pouring blind on everything but itself.
It’s barren.
Bleak.
And ultimately triumphant.
Inspired by Bibliomancy’s “to jump on the wrong parade” and Miz Quickly’s Sunday Random prompt © Misky 2021
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