Thursday, September 18, 2014

Intangible Transit

It fades fluent before our eyes
Intangible, tangible dies
Where leaf-lorn crooners eulogize
Its passing beneath solemn skies

This transaction of here-to-there
Is an illusion, gossamer
A metamorphosis of air
Disguised as evening to snare

A tear against my face yet far
You dissipate through gates ajar
Shepherded by the evening star
To lands where your ancestors are

That wide, slow place of yesterday
Fits one more foundling to its fray
Where we, imbibed with gold and gray
Will wake to find upon Time’s tray

© Janet Martin

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