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)

 

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