It flies as it marches on.
It divides.
And it conquers.
Yet it heals all wounds.
It's easy to waste.
But you cherish every moment of it.
We mark it by sand or shadow,
by ring or dial.
It marks us by line and color,
by fear and love.
Some say you can save it.
Most of us just spend it.
All I know is
it took just a little time
to grow a dear friend.
Love,
gl
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