Best Poem of A . T . Perkins

Your On My Time
Our time, measured in years
go by fast, slipping
streamlined thru the
universe - nonstop.
Once upon a time
crawling, now at a
dead sprint.
Too late to get them back.
Years moving at their own relentless pace,
playing a game with the
human psyche.
It takes one of high caliber, not
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Spring Training
The grass and mud smell like a marsh
as it is swept up by the gusts of warm air.
The ping of bat and ball
sends six, out of the nine
scurrying in all directions.
'Go, run! Go go, ' I search out mine in
the excitement. There she is!
Standing in centerfield - my hero,
Bouncing from toe to toe . . .
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