Time Marches On (The View From Here)

The printed word

      blurs 

at any distance

The pounding heart 

acknowledges 

every stair step

The mirror

throws mental images 

out of sync

Days quicken 

as pace

                        slows

Nights grow long 

as sleep hides 

off in the distance

Gravity pounds 
the skin suit 

to a relaxed fit

Mysterious aches

take up residence

without permission 

The soul surrendered  

in passionless toil is penance 

for the sin of want

Perspective begins to manifest

within view of 

the finish line

Truth jumps off your tongue 

like a springboard and smashes

all the dinner dishes

and you don't 

give a 

shit

Sunsets 

    awaken

        gratitude 

Love is a weathered monument 

to years of destruction and rebuilding 

in the garden of memory 

Children are

a joyous measure

of our distance

We gaze fondly at the laughing picture 

of invincible youth

and would not trade places

for everyday brings a lesson

now that we're paying attention

and not holding important

all the wrong things

Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press   

November 2015