Time Marches On


a year
I’ll never
forget, becoming
a teenager was thee milestone
we had all been waiting for: turning thirteen years old.
The perspective of looking back
on that year makes me
wonder why
I rushed

P. Wanken


On this “Friday the 13th”, I’ve written this poem for Poets United Midweek Motif: Thirteen–to use thirteen lines to write a poem about thirteen. I used the Fibonacci form with a reverse Fibonacci, which by default also makes the middle line thirteen syllables long. 🙂


  1. i think we spend much of life rushing it by to get to the next big thing…
    i will say thirteen was such an awkward age…its not one i worry much on rushing by…ha.


  2. Yes. Witty and true. I have often thought the same, less about the year thirteen than about the contrast between adulthood and youth. Why did I rush? 13, at least, we move past …


  3. Paula, isn’t that the truth? Time moves fast enough on its own without wishing it to past. It takes half a lifetime, I think, to realize that.


    1. Uh, yeah…I’m pretty sure there was ink back then. AND…I’m pretty sure you were making good use of it…regardless of whether or not you were writing.


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