There is a road not covered here, that lays upon the shadow land, continues for a thousand years, prepared until the breaking dawn, of clover fields in endless song, from memory entwined by youth, and stepping on to cobblestones that we could hear the sound of feet, so swift to chase the glimpse of years, upon the face we call our own.



©2014 Tom Squires











©2014 Tom Squires

Tom Squires

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/distance-and-time-3/