Before Its Demise

Already Day dwindles

First dawn disappears

As tick-by-tock swindles

Half-breaths into years

Futile to be beggars

In Want of the Past

For no one can barter

With one moment cast

My, my, how an hour

Slips through thin-skinned sighs

Its lilt like a flower

That opens then dies

Where Before-to-After

With gossamer spheres

Spills heartache and laughter

To love’s guerdon; tears

Already dawn dwindles

Birth’s blush from the breeze

As tick-by-tock kindles

Almost-memories

 

Today’s invitation

With each moment cries

For our attention

Before its demise

© Janet Martin

...off to 'attend' to those almost-memories!