Contributor: Richard Schnap

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The years pass unstoppably by
Like buses behind schedule
Like young girls escaping their childhoods
Like dead leaves lost in the wind

While I watch from a seat by my window
The passengers late for appointments
The lonely in search of their soul mates
The world as a race against time

And I look around my white-walled room
At a vase of plastic flowers
At a crystal ball collecting dust
At a guitar with out-of-tune strings

That someday will be someone else’s
To gather in their empty hands
To hold as they make them their own
To keep until they too fly away


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Richard Schnap is a poet, songwriter and collagist living in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. His poems have most recently appeared locally, nationally and overseas in a variety of print and online publications.