Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Then, In the Dusk of Being...





Then, there it is, where just an hour or maybe two before
Daylight drew pictures on earth’s shadow-dappled living-floor
While we too, with each touch and trip and here and there a fall
Draw pictures we will hang with tender care upon a wall
Then in the dusk of Being we will pause a little too
To watch the blue grow deeper on Time’s weathered avenue

We’ll hear upon the night-wind fond farewells to reminisce
And gather much like flowers faded fragments to thought-kiss
The hours that have stolen precious afternoons afar
Will suddenly be resurrected ‘neath the evening star
As in the dusk of Being we allow ourselves to dance
The doggerel befitting those who’ve suffered Time’s romance

The heart is like a levee holding memories in place
Where aftermath of daylight keens its generous embrace
And though day-shadows disappear into night-ebony
It cannot brush away the beauty of a memory
Where in the dusk of Being we walk slower than before
To touch with tender gratitude Time’s shadow-dappled floor

© Janet Martin

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