January 2015

J
She flits with indecent haste
Across times floor boards
As if ashamed
Of new beginnings
Her moments, long
In sensuous sunlight
Slip quickly and pool
Into past days
Is it simply my age?
Times accelerating trajectory
Racing with indecent haste
Blurring boundary lines of moments
Preparing to sling me
Into eternity, for I am
Closer to the beginning
Of the Returning
My days, more
Compressed, compacted
By demands, yapping  
With irritating insistence
Quarrel against
The languid longing
Of desire, to stay
Awhile in this moment
I still enjoy
New beginnings
Pleasure, stroked with the
Wistful knowledge of past endings
But, January has already
Slipped her moorings
While I, I want to stay

A moment longer

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badgerslabyrinth

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