Best Poem of R.L. Clark

I've stopped reading the morning's news,
the blare of proclamations issuing forth
from Modor's tower in the Land of Shadows.
Sauron ponders our fates east of the
Great River, as his sycophantic minions
defile what was once a great land.
With each Trumpet's rattle I hear the
clop of hooves upon the earth . . .
Read the full of Tidings
The seasons
come and go
quickly now.
Not like when I was
a boy and summer lasted
an eternity.

Youth takes for granted
what age cherishes. . . .
Read the full of Seasons