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simultaneously
another time
full of wrinkles
and unicorns
forgotten dreams
and naïveté
somewhere off
into the somber shadows of time
tick tock, knock knock
Grandfather’s calling
and waiting at your doorstep
will you let him in
or leave him to the horrendous weather
February March
surely
it’s frightful there
but delightful here
April May
the ticks and tocks
ebb and flow
like his knocking
on your massive
locked
wooden
door
autumn winter spring summer
ebbing tides
like the Ides of March
February March
March April
March
like Caesar’s time
it came and it went
out like a candle
will they go to die?
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