Saturday, March 23, 2013

Evening Epitaph

Here lie the gathered moments of her day
A rendering to every man the same
Of hours, burnished gold or sullen gray  
Resting within past’s immortal acclaim

Here the deceased forevermore will rest
No horse-drawn procession draws her along
But crimson dirge upon the molten west
Consoles the bystander in vesper-song

Here lies mercy’s allotment of the dawn
Asleep within Time’s chimeral embrace
While trembling hope spurs us to journey on
To our repose; faith’s final resting place

© Janet Martin

Last night, Matthew tells me (as he leans on my chair reading the epitaph) he had a dream that he wishes he could paint; he and I popped out of the water in the Arctic where we saw the most amazing sunset, glaciers and strange, beautiful birds!

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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!