from an evolving collection entitled Sun Lake Moon



What a strange existence

we have fashioned —

clicking away the hours

hunched over a desk.



Hours made of minutes

we will wish we had spent

with loved ones once they’re gone.



Minutes made of seconds

that will become long flowing days

wandering through

the dreamland of grief.


(c) 2018 / Frank LaRue Owen / purelandpoetry.com

sound: Kailash / Tibet: Nada Himalaya 2 / Deuter

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