Hark! The rhythm

Hark! The rhythm. The pellet drum rattles. The dance begins. The creation, the annihilation, the fleeing in-betweens, and beyond these appar...

Saturday, August 8, 2015

Tempus Fugit

A handful of sand,
slipping away, uncontrolled
echoes reminders.
Squandered, endured or enjoyed,
vestiges stay forever.


The prompt quotation is Tempus Fugit

Linking with Light and Shade Challenge


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Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.