March Wednesday

*Drawing by F. D, Steele*

Standing
At
The
Gates
Of
The
Day,
Years
Fall
Away.
Time
Revolves
Like
A
Wheel,
With
Nothing
Left
To
Steal,
Memories
Pressed
Flower
Flat,
Myriad
Colors
Intact,
Devoid
Of
Substance
Yet
Palpable,
Wholly
Real,
My
Heritage
To
Cherish,
Sacred
As
A
Private
Marriage.