hour

every hour a watching

eye can glimpse up upon

the passing of time and

Across many thoughts give

pathways to define

the crossroads

was bound to be at the end

of our time when

a way could ever be seen

beneath the wooden door

hidden away in the floor

that allows us to escape

to the place we

can make time stop

when we won’t know

how much time passed

when we snuggle up

About jaybeasley2

a writer, a painter, a poet, a wordsmith
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s