dusk

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)