Time is a straight tunnel
A surge of dark and light
Morning finds the funnel
That drains it back to night
We, pulsing ellipses
Dot our plot of sod
Mute moment-eclipses
Move us back to God
Sunlight sets a-quiver
The harp-string of lark
Soon its golden river
Is snuffed by the dark
Performance of people
Wedge twixt earth and sky
Climbing up a steeple
Where past-people lie
© Janet Martin
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!