Monday, 13 August 2012

The ducks fly backwards over our house.

The ducks fly backwards over our house,
From my sleep I try to rouse,
Time ticking in reverse, slowly descending,
The dreams, the thoughts, the life pretending.

A quiet child, alone and sad,
The wrapping is shiny, the inside is bad,
Who puts their trust in those who know.
To help them flourish, learn and grow.


The ducks fly forward to the truth,
The clock moves on, losing youth,
No time for dwelling on the past,
Your time is now, live it, make it last.

Jackie 2012

1 comment:

  1. Timing of this poem was so perfect it had to be fate. Second stanza says it all...

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