Writing with Time

By my side, time rests.

 

Working

years recede like a forgotten

postcard buried at the bottom

of a biscuit tin,

 

a few scrawled words

a thousand thoughts

and travail

 

I catch sight of scrutiny

hovering close again

reassembling sinews of self

from myriads of scraps

 

Copyrighted by the author

 

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