Time Disappoints

 The sun fell like a golden bell but I didn't here a sound, so I looked up, it's shadow cupped in autumn's umbral ground...

Her dressing-gown was gray and cold so she slipped into something warmer; Gold:) Happy Saturday!

Time disappoints then it anoints the morning with fresh air

Seasons cannot impress it any more or less, it seems

We scribble noise; life’s sorrow-joys of dancing and despair

Fill echo-streams with laughter-dreams and years with tear-requiems

Time disappoints then it appoints new moments to its wheel

It spins the Things we cannot keep yet nothing can erase

The Hour spills its flower; no will-power can appeal

Time’s forward-facing, season-chasing, human-racing grace

Time disappoints and it disjoints the well-laid scheme of thought

It does not owe us any explanation for its ways

Its changeless, ever-changing, rearranging habits oft

Vex and perplex; our ‘nexts’ at the mercy of golds and grays

Time disappoints then it anoints the morning with new urns

Its fingertips eclipse the crypts where life’s joy-sorrows fell

It strips the field of summer-yield; each new-comer soon learns

Its no-return is a slow-burn of echoes and farewell

© Janet Martin