Time
The past occurs now
staining your writing
I Observe
the Bound nature of this moment
what once Is was, and happened
gone
but soon to occur Again
Then
your writing stopped and began
Flying over paper again tanned
But once in nature, this moment
brought into being out of dust
to which we all return
A Pen
Gliding over the sand
Dropping into our minds in 1988
The Quill became the man's
Now giving life to pages once tanned
a long time ahead
From nature the Is became the Past
passed over our heads before the waves of our
Time
This poem is about:
Me
My community
My country
Our world