The Passing of Time

A wrinkle

exposed

on this face.

A grey hair

seems out of place.

-

Fold paperplanes

and watch them fly.

You still play,

still walk barefoot

through the hay.

And when you cry,

your tear's remains

drop to the floor.

-

Just moments ago,

a small child

was crawling in the sand.

Buoyantly building bridges.

I understand, it was you?

-

A smell of croissants

and lavendar.

O the sweetness

of past teenage summers

left

a lingering scar.

-

Yet we all grow

and we all die.

Must I keep this

in my mind's eye

so I may glance

at a starlit sky

and remember

not to let life

pass by?