mattyj

A snippet of time

a corner of cloth

a lonely old tailor

accused of sloth

The snip of steel blades

as crones do their work

stealing the eons

with naught but a smirk

as crumbling factories

-cherries in time-

melt 1900s

with old hags sublime

-a shadow on desert

whips shimmering dust-

the skulls of gone owls

addicted to trust

fallen from grace

with only a tune

-a song sung by tree limbs

and stars near the moon-

when flying was free

for all with a soul

no sharp snick of scissors

to still the bell’s toll