Monday, November 7, 2016

These Better Days We Hold...






The earth is clad in capes of leaf
And draped in shapes of letting go
Aesthetic appeal cloaks the grief
That comes with knowing what we know

…how even in the grin of it
The sting of it is ever nigh
And everything we hold a bit
Is but the prelude to good-bye

Thus, we cannot afford to haste
Or waste these better days we hold
For fear that we forget to taste
The full flavor of growing old

Time’s spartan grace of clock-faced ranks
Urges us with humility
To touch time's coattails with sheer thanks
At such an opportunity


© Janet Martin


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