Rhythms Of Time

Rhythms of time
gathering pace.
Working up to the wave
that crashed into me,
propelled me forward
and now sucks me back.
Thirteen decades.
To a place beyond my imagining,
so tidy now after the crash.
Gentrified now.
Rippling gently.
But before,
in my father’s time.
There was beer mixed mud
and crowding children.
And smells of horses
and metal.
Fire and metal work.
Children who
would leave behind
the mud,
and country
for the dust
and smog.
For the city grime.
Streets and factories.
More fire and metal.
And what then?
Still poor.
What then?
What secrets lie in those rhythms
of time
washing over me

Rhythms of timegathering pace.Working up to the wavethat crashed into me,propelled me forwardand now sucks me back.Thirteen decades.Back.To a place beyond my imagining,so tidy now after the crash.Gentrified now.Rippling gently.But before,in my father’s time,there was beer mixed mudand crowding chi...


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