Jayne Eggins Poet Blank verse

A Memory Follows Into Tomorrow

I watch
as whispers
of smoke
curl up into 
the stratosphere


then, it was as if
the night seemed to yawn, 
a great mouth of darkness,
swallowed the day
another moment, was recorded 
and cataloged
to be digested by the future 
but always, held in a voided past


as the smoke 
over history thickened 
and night and day
turned to meet, 
face to face
and back to back


I wondered why it is
that so many people 
live in the past ?,


when we are all laying
over the silver hands
of a timepiece, 
in a pocket
made of moments


shining up ahead 
is a dreamtime of 
‘Could Be’s’ 
and it awaits,


calling us all 
into the fall of tomorrow

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