Poetry

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IS MEMORY ITSELF LIKE TIME RESTING UPON A SHELF,THOUGH TIME MAY
MOVE ALONG NOTHING BLAMES THE DAY,THE PATH IS THERE FOR ALL TO
SHARE,IF THINKING IS A PATERN THEN THOUGHT'S THOUGHTS CAN WONDER,
CEILINGS LOOK DOWN AND FIND THEMSELVES IN AN OTHER TOWN,OTHER FOLK
MADE LIFE INVOKME SIMPLE LAWS WHERE WORK HAD SPOKE,TO A TOM,OR JACK
MAYBE A PAT OR BILL,THESE HOME'S ARE THERE FOR SOME OTHER'S STILL,
IS TIME UNWORN JUST LIKE TO-DAYEVER THERE ,WITH SOUL, AND BODY AND
MIND THAT'S ONE ALSO STRONG,THINKING THOUGHT'S ARE A DISTANCE LONG
A BLESSING,TIME IS CONFESSINGTHOUGH NOT TO LONG GUESS I AIN'T
THAT WRONG,AMEN'S NOT GONE YOU JUST KEEP ON MOVING SON.
Joe.

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