The Minutes Crawl Past
My dear, the hours haven't passed so quickly
As I thought they would, and I'm hard-pressed
To tell you why. Look at this place, this lovely
Garden, filled with fragrant flowers, lizards
Twitching on their sunny stones. Our tapas
Lunch was most delightful, and the wine was
Very good, but now our conversation's ebbed.
As I watch you look at your phone, I'm growing
Restless. I believe it's time for us to go.
Poetry by Lawrence Beck
Read 41 times
Written on 2025-12-02 at 16:49
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