this old house
where it used to be
the soft earth
*
once were dreams
rocks and stones all tumbled down….
the soft earth
So many years, so many dreams, dust to dust. Rocks and stones buildup…breakdown…the moon then sun…the moon then sun. Time. You can never catch it….it’s always on the move, day by day. Ancient poets tell us, Months and days are endlessly passing travelers. So go the years. Are you and I eternal travelers, too?
