Monday, August 27, 2012


The previous train of thought sparked another

God, let me not squander the vapor-present
In pining or regret for the past, over, done
Nor dwell in futile fear for the Future
As it becomes present,
…then it is gone

© Janet Martin

Moments fall like the rain outside my window,
the tangible present slips to reflection…
but, as I walk toward the reflection
it disappears.

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Thank you for your visit to this porch. I'd love to hear if or how this post/poem touched you!