In memory of Nancy Richey Ranson, who died in Dallas, Texas on this date in the year 1972 . . . in her own words . . .
I had not known time moved so swiftly past,
Nor counted seconds, flying one by one;
I knew just hours in fragments, rarely fast.
As imperceptible as trail of sun
Across unmeasured distances of sky;
I had not counted myriad sword-like rays
Cut sharply through the tranquil air, to lie
Upon the quiet earth through passing days.
But on this strange new clock, a second hand
Strides endlessly around the moonlike face;
For not one breathless instant will it stand,
But goes relentlessly at steady pace.
I watch it, spellbound. Now, at last, I know
That in this selfsame manner life will go.
This poem is from a little book of poetry called Texas Evening . . . by Nancy Richey Ranson . . . who was Poet Laureate of Texas from 1941 'til 1943 . . .