When I peered once at a passing moment,
It looked back, stared at me flustered and peeved,
Looking nigh strange, a moment duly spent,
‘I scarce am unlike those ye never lived'.
So taken aback, hit as if on chest,
I demurred feebly at gallows' humour,
But struggled still— this new truth to digest,
A warning bell, a point pressed with hammer?
This no way is advice—gift of good-bye:
Live every moment as if very last,
Lest it should get lost in life's buried past,
Beware; a dying moment does not lie,
Give it presence ye never knew as NOW,
But when it melts as past, let it and bow.
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Sonnets | 05.07.08 |
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