Monday, March 31, 2014


This summons comes
Once, and for all
No repeat in its
Curtain call

Young or old
Or in between
Or summer-green

Across Time's field
Of yield it wends
Undeterred by
Knolls or bends

Who is next?
No one can tell
When will ring
Its somber knell

We should live
Each day as though
We will be
The next to go

This summons comes
With clarity
And thus begins

 © Janet Martin

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