Sunday, October 23, 2016

Scythe-song





Faster than ever dusk severs the day
Nothing can keep its blue bayou at bay
High-sky of summer soon lowers its boon
Seasons fall prey to the scythe of the moon

Hearts are like harbours that hold in their cove
Murmurs and mistrals of hunger and love
Taking and leaving can strew through the years
Multi-hued medleys of laughter and tears

Sometimes in autumn the valor of life
Keens in our bearing its double-edged knife
Firsthand we witness Time’s winnowing way
Nothing we do can keep winter at bay

© Janet Martin


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