March of Time

Tonight, before my eyes half-shut
Twixt day and twilight shade
Across the glimmering field of time
There marched a strange parade
As echoes of a laughing child
And voices from my past
Drifted from the grey-blue cloud
In lengthened shadows cast

Where mother calls ‘it’s time for bed’
And children cry ‘oh, no’
And father kindly clears his throat
But we knew it meant ‘go’
And I could hear the night-birds call
As day to rest is laid
When suddenly I feel I’m in
This black and white parade

I hear the echo in my voice
As I say ‘time for bed’
And children still reply ‘oh no’
While mother nods her head
In the dusk the night-bird calls
And history is made
While I am caught a mother-child
Within this strange parade

All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin