We are sincerely hoping this day is holding rain. We have had only a few drops since the seeds went into the ground!
Dear little day, just beginning
What do you hold in your hands?
Will it be flowers or sorrow
Spilling their tears on time’s sands?
Dear little day barely breathing
Artist of bustle and rush
What are the colors bequeathing
Memories poised on your brush
Dear little day never witnessed
Or handled or held before
What are the pictures you’ll scatter
At dusk, on living room’s floor
Dear little day, soft you offer
‘never-again’ charges to keep
For when you slip from Time’s favor
You will not wake from your sleep
© Janet Martin