Non-Eroding Driftwood


From

worn paths seen through heavy mist,
where rubber balls once bounced,
bicycle tires rolled,
sneakers kicked rocks,
Vibram soles trekked.

To

transient echoes heard distant,
where taxi horns blew,
subway rails labored loud,
pigeons cooed serenely,
radio-controlled sailboats
dotted Central Park’s lake.

Imprinted

was mother’s love and gentle touches,
a father’s confidence,
grandfather’s trust,
grandmother’s faith.
as a child’s security.

Became

breath of fate honored,
growth harvested,
used and recycled,
life’s residue seedlings,

finding purchase

as a writer’s digitally enhanced words

a lexicon of non-eroding driftwood

in the cloud of perpetual Time.