Yearling Luna
A pair of hands, in circles, chase,
on his leather band they race.
Shut-eyed as the minutes pass by.
But numbers never mind,
he'll dream in black and white.
Seconds, minutes, hours unwind,
and will you ever find
the points that made the line,
all the moments in time?
Days and weeks and months to strike through
as pages turn with you
and letters make the news.
If you can face the world this time
and take it all with salt and stride,
then you'll never wonder why.
Colors in between blue and red and green,
these which never show without light.
A thousand sheep above,
but little more in sight.
What is it you're wanting tonight,
and will you ever find
the points that made the line,
all the moments in time?
What have you gotten yourself into?
The time has come to try
and measure all of the days of your life.
You'll never wonder why.
