In One Century
part VIII

Time wore by,
Meetings became just letters,
And drifting,
And sifting
To find myself to settle.
The letters
Came little,
And then they were lost away,
In growing
And showing,
Now Able to walk alone.
The new ways
And the difference of phrase.



Gloom
to old Poetry
Back to Part 7~~Turn the Page ~~ On to Part 9

to the Index~~~to Poetry 1999 ~~~to Darkness ~~~to Sal-li’s Story