We cannot hold for long
An hour,
A flower,
A child upon the knee
Summer of sun-gold moment-song
A midnight melody
But, as they trickle through our touch
Ephemeral breath-bliss
We come to realize that such
Is life; its whisper-kiss
A brief, beautiful holding
Of bests that life imparts
Slipping through our fingers
To that place within our hearts
© Janet Martin