Already we are moving toward the morn of the morrow
Night is a barge formed of starlight and dreams
We do not forage fantasy for sorrow
But are always looking for something better, it seems
Sometimes I see you when no one is looking
We are not older, love, only our clothes
Did you perchance think that I have forgotten?
…hearts cannot order what stays and what goes
Past that carmine-colored skyline, quite gaudy
Midnight is skulking and then closes in
Sometimes its nearness feels almost like a body
And almost I feel your far touch on my skin
Memory is heavy with drifting, my darling
You are not nearer now than you were then
Tomorrow never steps over dusk’s mooring
Midnight will change it to Today again
© Janet Martin
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!