Saturday, August 1, 2015

Hidden Harbor

Between thunderstorms July gathered the hem of her golden evening-gown and disappeared into a blaze of glory...

All things come but to pass
Ethereal escapade
This very moment I hold fast
Hastens to its parade

From Here to There, how swift
What is becomes what was
This very afternoon adrift
On twilight’s faint applause

Parting’s presumptuous pain
Patterns its warlike art
Upon the dark; something like rain
Falls heedless from the heart

…where all things come to pass
Time follows time, but I
Would like to find the hour-glass
That harbors sweet July

© Janet Martin

On the last day of July I always feel like I'm at a farewell party. Do you?

1 comment:

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