Time

B87C410F-0E0C-495E-9D5E-F941C49E85B5

Time

I remember when my mother at about my age talked about time being on “fast forward.” That was during the days of cassette tapes and when she said that I could picture time chugging ahead at full speed. I agreed with her that time was flying by. Sadly when she was a few years older and living in an extended care facility she said that time was passing so slowly, the days and nights were very long.

I often think of the mystery of time.

8087486D-0A16-48E1-A405-65D6C73AE0B1

  • What is it?
  • Where does it go?
  • Does it fly?
  • Or, does it crawl by?
  • What makes the difference?

It seems we just celebrated the various holidays of December, yet we are into the second month of the new year, the new decade. To me, time is flying, yet some days seem long. Time is a mystery.

 

Photos by Pixabay

 

Guest Poet

Lazy Part of Summer

IMG_7850

patches of queen anne’s lace

dance across fields of fescue

during the lazy part of summer,

their lacey white umbels

bobbling on spindly stems 

as they catch 

the dry august breeze  

stands of purple iron weed 

compliment sunflowers of yellow 

in the palm of summer’s hand,

unyielding on rigid stalks

as they thrive

in the grip of heat

hillsides of vibrant green

lose their emerald luster

over the passing of time,

their brilliance dulling

as they falter

under shortening days 

 

stream beds run dry

and intermittent pockets of water

lie in shallow languid pools,

inviting jesus bugs to walk 

above pinchered crawdads

that crawl across the flat rocky bottom

IMG_6359

the old iron railroad trestle

sits solidly on stilted legs

that rise skyward over the complacent stream,

time and life seem suspended 

as they slow to a crawl

during the lazy part of summer

“lazy part of summer” Written by: Sylvia L. Mattingly  August 10, 2018

IMG_7902