Eight-line Poems

Time Passing

Time Passing

Two-sixteen and the minutes fly
like ravens from the hand of Time,
scattered to the sullen stormclouds
of a gathering future.

Tossed on the winds of uncertain fate,
these moments drift beyond our sight,
gone forever as hope dies at last,
their cries, with Poe, of “Nevermore.”


Line count: 8
Free verse
For Express It In Eight, 05.13.23
Prompt: As per illustration.