What time is it?

As a boy he learned to be on time

Tend the stove, feed the chickens

Eat breakfast, off to school.

Keenly aware his time

Was not his own.

As a young man he had to be on time

Start the car, punch the clock

Do the job, return home

Knowing full well his time

Others required

When he retired he still asked

What time is it?

Searching for an opportunity

A reason to move on

To the next task.

As the time to transition came

He waited a while, he lingered

Ensuring others knew

He loved them all.

What time is it?

About Poetry Road/Marty Goes to Mars

Poetry storage, genealogy research and tribute to my grandson with Down Syndrome . Creativity is my outlet--expressions in acrylics, accomplished quilter , doll maker and writer. Please visit my shop sites. Thank you for stopping in!
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