Time

dawn passes to dusk
giving rise to winter and
the fall of the year
–
on a cold wind-
another year gone
without notice

a rain-soaked highway-
the skeletal hand of fate
cuts another thread
–
trapped in amber-
mountains are as
grains of sand

reaching for your hand
I would touch you if only
I could turn back time
–
under the oak tree-
lost in our
history

late into the night-
pouring over lesson plans
and student papers
–
a clenched fist-
time still runs
through my fingers

eyes closed, steady breaths-
trying to push the anger
back into the box
–
boiling seas-
lava slowly turns
to cold stone

quietly aging-
under the stairs, a box of
curling photographs
–
wind blown leaves-
walking slowly
hand in hand

much have I witnessed
during my earthly journey
and I am humbled
–
etched in stone-
recounting our
shared history

my newborn daughter-
a woman after thousands
of past yesterdays
–
new spring-
a sapling
births a forest