Of Gray or Golden

We cannot beg the little day

To add another hour

We cannot plead the bloom to stay

When it has ceased to flower

We cannot urge back to the stem
The petal that has fallen
Or taste youth's fair springtime again
To dodge the grip of autumn

We cannot un-speak uttered things

When it has once been spoken

Nor undo yester’s offerings

Of moments bent and broken

We cannot return to the past

To touch the gray or golden

But we can give our utter-best

To moments we are holding

© Janet Martin