the leader

down streets of old tiles
mosaic pieces make no sound
i trot behind your worn hat
you are the leader of the pack

down lanes of old men
musical instruments in hand
their hats are overturned
with loose change in them

down alleys of old stone walls
your fragrance knits morning glories
from a trail of summer breeze
one raise of your hat you freeze them all

down open lands of destruction
weak flesh hide in underground tunnels
you bow with your hat low
and smile to embrace a new epoch

down the roads often travelled
you take on pseudonyms for cover
walking through rise and falls
burying blood of competitors

they've looked for you from the start
marked you down in circles of twenty-four
they've tried so hard to pin you down
but you still stand far off

you take the world in your stride
and seasons follow your rhyme
with a tip of your hat you collapse eras
dear Time, you are the leader of our pack