794 Possum Trot Poetry, Part Two
Yes, this is a very special place. A place of peace, a place to call home, and a place that historically has been home to so many people for a short season. This is the second part of a poem written by Bill Medely. Bill is a writer that visited Possum Trot fifteen consecutive years.
Travels into the woods of Clay
Remind us of the unending process.
And center one on life about
things more important than 8-5.
My cup is overflowing among
The oaks at Possum Trot and
I am ever grateful
So burn the fire into the night.
Watch its embers dance in flight
Then swirl and taste the amber ring
Within our cups for it contains
the taste of time, here and now,
and that gone by and never found.
And add a ring unto your layer.
For all too soon the gate will close,
And we, my friends, will disappear
Like Springtime's budding rose.
Bill Medley 10/19/10
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