From Beckoning to Reckoning

 The sky went from fire-ball red to ash gray in mere minutes...

there is freezing rain in the forecast so drive safe, everyone.

My, my, how soon the dawn is drawn

Beyond its beacon lit

How soon its beckoning becomes

The reckoning of it

My, my how swift this gift of dust

Propels morning to noon

Where soon the purple mist of dusk

Dissolves time’s latest boon

My, my, how soon a day is done

How smooth moments adhere

One to the next, a seamless spawn

Where lifetimes disappear

My, my, how soon death will unveil

What now we but suppose

My, my, time pours an awesome grail

Toward its curtain-close

© Janet Martin