Must Be...

Must be these moments dipped in frost

That makes me ponder wonders lost

To love’s inevitable cost

Or maybe it’s the fellowship

Of day-to-days that deftly slip

Like petals, inaudible drip

…from touch into that place of years

Where, in fond fashion reappears

An echo-land in salty spheres

So that the pen cannot ascribe

With ink the yen that aches inside

Of Time and its betokened tide

© Janet Martin

"That's a Nice Hibiscus..."

'Oh, help' said the young, beautiful, willowy woman

inside the door of my laundry room, as she came to pick up her little preschooler.

 'I must be getting old! I just said 'that's a nice hibiscus' as if I knew anything about flowers, 

or cared, 

but I am starting to notice flowers, like my mother!'