Friday, August 31, 2012

Belated Sunday Whirl





In rose dusk a fence of etched trees lace
the painted air; nature’s charcoal pencil-trace
against a canvas where brief moments link
to form a chain of laughter, sorrow, strife
of forgiving and being forgiven; this is life

Now darkness obliterates dusk’s sky-line art
The hour is empty but for the aching of my heart
clasping life’s essentials within its grope
for the operator of Time’s wheel cannot steal
fond memories; life’s recipe for hope

© Janet Martin



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