Day after day,


my life will collect them --


days, slowly, one upon one,


like so many pebbles


that would slip through my hand


no two are the same


and I cannot hold them.




Yet sometimes I'm lucky


and I can stand still


in one place long enough


to think about 'what was today?'


in this day's last moments


i'll wait for the sun


as it gives up the day's rush


in the quiet embrace of the night.




I'll look to the late sky


the dusk's parting colors


and sometimes, reflecting,


a lifetime'd go by


and lately I've realized


as day after day


that I've reached for another


this one…has slipped from my hand.




© Jon Bohrn (1998)



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