Did the dance of
moments muster
More than we had
thought to think
Did its darling daybreak-luster
Soon surrender newborn pink?
Did the dance of
moments murmur
Like a far-off sleepy
brook?
Did it scatter bits
of summer
Like loose pages of a
book?
Did the dance of
moments mimic
Something familiar
yet strange?
Did it stun with suave
chimeric
Everlasting
interchange?
Did the dance of
moments matter?
When its winsome
wending wanes
Like a brook bled dry
of chatter
As the last of moments drains...
Tell me, in this dance of moments
What did we live for and why?
For, my dear, we are more than
Marionettes strung from the sky
© Janet Martin
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