What Has Been Your Most Perfect Day? Poem by Patti Masterman

What has been your most perfect day?
How could I say; for I'm the prisoner of time,
Watching days going by, no reason no rhyme:
Life's the play that's full of signs,

Seasons and weeks, that seemed all mine
And I can't slow it down, as it picks up speed;
I'm only the witness, trying not to leave.
But in good time, all the sand must run out
And empty the frame, that once was me..

Perhaps it will all have been perfect, being me:
But by then none can see;
Naught but these words-

So remember to live,
While you still breathe,
For the dead are not free-
Not like you and me-


(July 11 2011)