Henge

I drive past every week
Those standing stones, grey and bleak.
A calendar to mark the year,
Alleviated primal fear.

The sun would come, the sun would go.
Summer heat to winter snow.
Stones still stand, built to last.
They don't see the year pass.

In our time of atomic clocks
We forget the equinox,
Solstices and cross quarters
Our lives seem much shorter.

Time flies by increasingly fast.
Live for today, forget the past.
Standing stones reminding us
That life wasn't always thus.