contemplativeTimes Change
Times change and I miss your face
now fixed in my memory
a dream conspiring with the wheel
to turn around and taunt again
events conspire to separate
one from another without reprieve
with no rhyme on who should leave
or stay behind to mark the days
all may grieve in their way
even as necessity
demands this price for some to grow
in distant lands beyond the fold
no evil entity is to blame
instead the cause is so mundane
the ebb and flow of lives
just enough to get by
shifting winds blow the leaves
to the west and to the east
times change and still I miss
your face lodged in memory.
© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190123.
