Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2011
In one hour, six minutes of real time
this weekend will end.
These minutes,
already moving into memory,
will exist outside of time.

I will keep these
past tomorrow,
        past later,        
past when I am old.

I will remember smiling;
to think about you,
about me,
about when...I loved you well.
Nancy Katherine
Written by
Nancy Katherine
Please log in to view and add comments on poems