My World is Drying Up


Fewer do I see in my periphery

From the swimmingly, staggering blunder

Of those from my old backyard lumber.


My reliances – all gone!

Their footprints, are gone.

All gone is their strength in number.


Right or Wrong, I went along,

A holiday taken in Summer.


Bad or good; would if I could.

Then pick or choose and win or lose.

One must, one might, one should.


In all too soon I’ll enjoin their slumber;

And reap, again, with their strength in number.




©Marvin Loyd Welborn 2011


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