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That sacred span you reserved,
for just spending time,
is only a moment of sand,
passing through your fingers.
An effervescent zephyr
lightly lay along the lake
In an effort to make meaning
of the movement in its wake
A momentary curtain then
did carry that away
And memory was left to take
only what it may.
The only thing you might, if you're lucky, get to take with you when you die is memory, so therein lays true wealth. This is the metaphorical method by which we acquire that wealth.
- R. Christopher Horak
I enjoyed reading your poem.
Thank you for sharing it with us
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