The corridor of yesterday
Has no trespasser though we may
Stand at the gate and wait, wait, wait
We always only have Today
And when today slips from this place
Of crowded streets and winds we chase
Nothing can trouble it again
Or snuff from it one tiny trace
Today is such a lovely thing
From it all forms of beauty spring
And wing their flight from morn to night
In subtle moment-winnowing
And soon what now we call today
Will be forever far away
Thus we ought taste and not to waste
This gilded crumb of gold and gray
For corridors of yesterday
Have no trespassers though we may
Stand at the gate; we dare not wait
And miss the gift wrapped in Today
© Janet Martin
"this gilded crumb of gold and gray"...that's my favorite line in today's poem.
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