Scope of time
I who write
Shall have long since gone away
Into the region of shadows
And those who read
Are among the living
Strange things happen
Through the centuries
Flasks of aged wine
Stand waiting to be drunk
The wine cannot quench your thirst
You become a small particle
In the scope of time
The region is a shadow
Light and darkness meet
And do battle.
poem by Howard Johnson
Added by Poetry Lover
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