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Relic of a Softer Time

He is a living artifact from a time long-since past

cracked and worn in places,

yet still formidable in form and substance.

Estranged from an era now sadly obsolete,

he wears a coat of rust -

a relic of a softer time.

Instead of the main road nearest,

he takes to the woods.

Don’t worry - he knows the way home.

He travels a path now nearly overgrown,

almost unrecognizable,

which sensuously oozes a peculiar,

rich flavor all its own -

brother to the residue that’s found

after a steady summer’s rain

on an aged dogwood’s leaves.

He’s ancient history to most,

an impediment to the ways of a hurried world.

He grips tenaciously (yet quietly) to fables and poetry,

nobility and deliberation,

passion and romance.

The last vestiges of a

lost time

flow through his storied frame,

old-soul ways carefully marinated by time,

now regrettably marginalized in this strange, stale world –

as he heads home to rest.

Do you know him?

~ Bill Breneman ~

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