2026-02-12 Write A Beautiful Carpe Diem Poem Poetry Contest; Sponsor, Constance La France
The bad news is that time flies. The good news is you’re the pilot.” — Michael Altshuler The sun spills like heavy honey over cliffs, Drowning the clocks in a sea of amber light. I pluck a ripe second from the abundant air, Feeling its pulse throb against my palm today. Shadows stretch long limbs across the quiet grass, Tasting the wind before it turns to a ghost. The sky is a bruised plum, leaking its juice, Staining the edges of our fleeting breath now. Forget the iron gates of the cold tomorrows; They are only echoes in a hollow jar. Drink the salt spray from the lip of the moment, While the waves carve runes into the shifting sand. Mountains dissolve into a purple smoke ring, As we dance on the blade of a golden spark. Stars are just pinpricks in a heavy curtain, Waiting for a hand that will never arrive. The earth is a spinning top of green silk thread, Unraveling softly beneath our bare feet. Hold the burning coal of this hour closely, Until the light becomes the only thing real.
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