Against our will, time is fleeting.
Seconds tick as if beating
themselves to an end.
We cannot pretend,
or defend our cheating.

Time and tide do not wait for man,
and we might think we have a plan.
Time does not turn back
and that is a fact
that impacts our lifespan.

So, in a forward march, we go.
And as we near our ends, we’ll know,
if we gave life worth
while we’re here on earth.
From our birth, it will show.

© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2016

Poetic Asides Poetic Form – Clogyrnach


High above the ground I perch
a once green leafy thing hanging by a string,
Now, I’m orange, brown and old
and waiting for the other leaf to drop.
A rapid fall in fall is all I have left.

Why am I hanging in the lurch?
Why wasn’t I created as some other thing?
The winds grow strong and bitter cold,
I pray to God that it will stop!
And yet soon, this branch will be bereft

of me! From here my senses search
but the steel blue clouds are threatening.
They say winter approaches, but I’m not sold,
until suddenly I hear a “pop”!
I begin my descent and slowly I drift!

© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2016

Poetic Asides Poetic Form – Rimas Dissolutas