In the tunnel of summer, guardian April 23
Why, where and how fast time fleets?
This wrinkled skin and tender skin,
Competing with time often
A recycling edge:
Strong recollection as I sit
In park’s bench and ruminate,
Just fading sun in summer this eve,
How many summers spent in work
mindless of other cadences,
whether eight or eighteen or eighty,
end of life rolling in the past,
present and future ,
fruits and grains mix,
blood and memory ,
still I am asleep , half asleep
looking through the window….
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