A poem by Mrs. Hatman:
TIME
Time. . . a sightless. soundless way,
A moment, an hour, then a day.
It is, it's here, and now upon,
It isn't, it was, and now it's gone,
We look and step into this space,
And vaguely recognize a face.
But is it him or her or me,
That spans this time and then must flee?
It matters not, for we're the same,
To each of us. . .time briefly came!
With Love and Kindness,
THE HATMAN
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