They called it A Place in the land of Time

though it had no roof or door,

when many came to enter in

and tread across its floor.

 

There, young and old did saunter through

though none, alas, could stay,

as the purpose of A Place in Time

was to guide all to ‘the way’.

 

So sang the ephemeral tiles of Time,

set beneath the hungry halls,

pulsing in their vivid veins

the words of waiting walls.

 

There plodded Haywain travelers

past the panel in between

mumbling mute of Mount Amara

as some passed beyond the scene.

-Amy Struthers