A Moment Spent

Time
d
r
i
p
s
from the anxious clock

No stopping the onward motion
one brief moment morphing endlessly
. . into the next
. and the next
and the next

It never ceases

You can not hold these moments
they
s
l
i
p
through your fingers

Snapshots of instances stored like photos
freeze framed - locked in our memory
pressed like dried flowers
in the pages of a book
illustrating
the story
of our
lives

Treasure the racing moments
for once spent
they are
d
e
a
d
and g o n e.

"We have only this moment, sparkling like a star in our hand
- and melting like a snowflake." - Marie B. Ray