Friday, January 8, 2016

From Beckoning to Reckoning




 The sky went from fire-ball red to ash gray in mere minutes...

there is freezing rain in the forecast so drive safe, everyone.


My, my, how soon the dawn is drawn
Beyond its beacon lit
How soon its beckoning becomes
The reckoning of it

My, my how swift this gift of dust
Propels morning to noon
Where soon the purple mist of dusk
Dissolves time’s latest boon

My, my, how soon a day is done
How smooth moments adhere
One to the next, a seamless spawn
Where lifetimes disappear

My, my, how soon death will unveil
What now we but suppose
My, my, time pours an awesome grail
Toward its curtain-close

© Janet Martin

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