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HORIZONS, by                    
First Line: The past is like a purple shadow
Last Line: That story-like approach an end.


the past is like a purple shadow
of the present, with the future
gliding in like sliding panels
of a house with dark mysterious walls.

deceptive limits quite collapsable
and more uncertain with each changing
of the calendar, with nothing
ever gained yet something always lost.

imaginary lines encompassing the soul
but insurmountable, possessing greater strength
than iron bars and chains and locks
that hold the prisoner within his cell.

the walls are reminiscent of a past
their pictures hanging straight
conjuring memories grown dim with age
within the photograph eye
of mental camera.

these now surrounding walls will glide away
and all the treasures perish
crumbled in the dust
of old forgotten haunts for something newer,
more elaborate, if less secure.

for those walls too
like these will glide away
as dim horizons
in the scenic film of years
unwinding in the brain a series of events
that story-like approach an end.





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