Last Exhale

 PAD Challenge day 13: For today’s prompt, take the phrase “Last (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write the poem.

Eastward...

Twilight draws over croft, soft pink

It tiptoes across wooded hush

And etches tree-lines on yon brink

Beneath the rose of eve-tide’s brush

That place where we keened waking thought

Upon the whetstone of new day

Has turned from future into naught

But that which comes to pass away

And suddenly I think of how

A day to week to month to year

With constant, waning undertow

Can make a lifetime disappear

A little lilt of newborn morn

Then far-off chimes, what, twelve o’ clock?

Ere dusk climbs the blue-ladder dorm

Midnight exhales; time turns the lock

© Janet Martin

Westward...