Photo courtesy of

Grasses, shifting in the breeze

Tanned by the suns of summer

Now but the ghosts of a season

Sands, stumble haplessly

Casting about without destination

Defiant against an encroaching sea

Tides, fussy with restless movement

Scurry about with abandon

Surrender to days demise

Time, moving to a soundless melody

Pauses but a moment to observe

Life’s cycles

About oldmainer

I am a retired manager living in Southern Maine and a would be writer of poetry, narratives, short stories, and random opinions, and that's how Oldmainer was born. Recently, I decided to try an experiment. I added photography to the mix, using only a cheap cell phone with a limited camera and the editing software that came with it, and added the blog site Inklings at to showcase the results. So, feel free to use whatever you find interesting or worthy, but please honor the terms of my copyright when and if you do. They may not be much, but they are still a piece of me. I appreciate your checking me out and hope that you find something that will encourage a return visit. Thanks for stopping by.
This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to Cycles

  1. Paul says:

    Like this very much.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s