March
March is not marching
anymore
It's running and racing in
one door
and out the other to
nevermore
be at the front or in
the fore
Just like the blowing wind
it's gone
It seems so short, it seems
so long
But with the blinking of
an eye
You're left to wonder where
and why
Perchance you did what you
were meant
the years so long are quickly
spent
You're thinking how and where
it went
Was it a gift or only
lent
Is there still time to get
it right
while days pass quickly in
to night
We shall reap that which
we sow
Did I do it? I just
don't know.
copyright 3/18/2012
vrd
