Oh, sometimes to fully feel you
I write you down
Trace afternoon for your color
Burgundy, gold, chestnut brown
For often you slip from my fingers
Before our dance is through
So I write you down, my precious
To remember you
I pluck the petal that brushes
The cheek ere it vagrantly slips
Into the silver forever
Of Past’s irretrievable crypts
Or else in the rush of your rain-song
I’ll snatch a tear from your eye
And press it into word pictures
Where dark is stealing the sky
I caught a feather of snowflake
Before it dissolved into naught
Etching your six-point perfection
Into meandering jot
You never scream for attention
Maybe that is why I love you
And feel compelled to frame pieces
Dripping and slipping from view
Eternal transience, ah moment
Moving across my today
Stripping swift years of its valor
While filling a life with your fray
Oh, sometimes to fully feel you
I grasp your ephemeral gown
And as you slide soft through my fingers
I linger and write you down
© Janet Martin
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!