The poetry of Adam Gibbs

Old Songs.

“The past is never dead. It’s not even past.”

                                                -William Faulkner

Time’s greatest sin
Is that it’s fair,
Reducing all to the same fine dust:

En route to oblivion,
There comes a moment when
Time has chipped away at
The statues of heroes and villains
Just enough that we can
No longer tell them apart.

Every war ends,
But peace is no guarantee.
Ancient hatreds thaw,
Then harden once again
In history’s familiar freeze.

The melody of the memory,
It lingers like church bells ringing,
Still some old songs
Are not worth singing.

Adam Gibbs is a writer and poet originally from Sidney, Ohio. His poems have won the Tipp City Arts Council’s annual contest in 2015 and 2016, and honorable mention in the Hayner Cultural Center’s 2016 contest. He currently lives in Grove City, Ohio, with his wife Lindsay and their daughter Clara.

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