The Magic Hourglass
April's come and gone. Now May is here; the grains in the hourglass
have already started sifting down. Dew is on the roses.
Days of linking daisies will soon begin.
Transparent skies of night will show
constellations when the
fire-breathing dragon
comes to freckle
school-sprung
children, who
baring skin,
will run
with
glee
through
sprinklers.
Soon enough
the kids will be
tumbling in leaves
fallen from the trees of
their back yards, and then
following bright autumn's demise,
the filtering of seasons' sand quickens till
every grain has drifted like snow, burying another year.
May is on her way; again the hourglass, like magic, is turned over.
For the 'SHAPE UP' Poetry Contest of Brian Strand
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2015
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