Winds of Times Passage

Hyacinth garden

I wake in night's winter.

Outside are the trees in full blackness.

I lie and listen.

Not hearing any breath before daybreak.

Silent, but for the rushing wind.

No youth for either of us amid ice and snow.

Now, the yawn of a gaping gale assails me.

I shiver as if the coldness is in my bones.

Wind wails and moans.

Useless to think at what might have occurred.

Don't let the past become all stirred.

As heart catches in your throat.

Careless too envision the future.

Every second more remote.

Only the moment matters, be all that you will.

We are all on the winds of times passage.

As we rush through day and night.

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yellowspecks's picture

What an honest and truthfull sentiment, very well written. Rae