Voices hushed,

eyes wanting to look away

from pristine hours, once new

and clean,now used and worn,

tossed and tattered as they lay-

God's gift of Yesterday,

We weep for another chance

to embrace its dawn, embellish

its noon with love  before

it is gone- Lord if I had only known,

how quickly hours are blown

to the ethers, aimless, and alone

with no memories of yesterday sown

with silk rose yarn and french knot smiles

to see me through these last few miles. 

07/15/2006