The Trellis of Time
Years twine through the trellis of time, lush and green, climb up for the sun, curious, growing, fed by dreams, probe life’s lattice, reach for their time of blossoming beauty, but those days are short, and blown by harsh winds leaves that rustled with promise yellow with age, vining downward toward the earth from which they were spawned, but ever with a sense of direction.
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Jaybird
I am retired, having worked primarily as a librarian, but have done freelance proofreading, copy editing, and book reviewing. I wrote some poetry many years ago, but decided it was bad and stopped, since I had other things to do. For the last ten...
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