Time shapes man...

     like water across limestone…

etching him

with memories

     pitting his soul

     with water.

The hard surface

     of youth

gives over

     to a softer

          smoother

outlook on life

     and love.

Some dreams

catch on the edges

     and cling there
until finally
     worn away forever.

Tony Sexton

I guess I write too many poems about growing old but I guess I write about the things in my life that bear on my mind. Growing old is one of those things. I have always been a rock collector. Where ever I go, I usually pick up a stone and carry it around in my pocket for days, sometimes months, just as a reminder of where I have been. When I went to UK, one of my favorite classes was geology and it was one of those classes that inspired this poem.

It is amazing what rocks can tell us about our world. If you stand on the side of the road where they and cut away a large hill or mountain, you will see history right before your eyes. Each seam tells a story about a moment or an age in time. You can see where water once stood or where volcanoes erupted. You can learn a lot about a rock, just as you can learn a lot about yourself by cutting away what is on the surface and looking at all the seams of you life hidding inside.

Time does shape a man. Have you looked inside lately to remember where you have been and what made you who you are today? Tell me about it. Tell me how time has shaped you. I look forward to hearing your story.



I want to hear from you. Tell me your process. Ask me questions. Tell me what you like or dislike about any of these poems.