Time's Landslide Poem by james watkin

Built up against the sky
World's dark verge traces
Mountain-like, Time's landslide.
On all down-races.

Nothing stands up to it.
All crumbles away.
Life's pace, and its progress
Breathless to this day

Which mortal impulse tis
Sees us caught up in
The same descending path
Ice, rock and branching.

In its shadow all's heard
Even thereunder
Beauty's fret to be kissed
Of sun or lover.

Foredooming Autumn-tumbling!
Groaned plunge into Age!
Dust unto dust's settling.
Which but mists assuage.