Time
At three I was a prodigy, at four no more I guess By five or six my days were mixed The days gone by are super clear I know it doesn’t rhyme my dear, Let’s not discuss The obvious. I know I’m not a poet, I never said I was I said was a prodigy I note without apology It’s just that life slips on its way, and I stand by because I wonder what I should have done To turn the tide, survive the run To capture days in rain and fun To frolic in the leaves of sun. I never saw it coming, though I guess it always does Another day before my feet Another flower a sly defeat Another triumph cleat by cleat With fuzz and buzz and dilemmas