The diamonds in the trickle
formed from icicles in spring
or silver sieved from moonlit lakes
is a poisoned potion served
in breakfast juice.
It’s a gradual decay.
It’s to care in vain.
It’s your timeglass turned at birth.
it’s the pain of flesh
and in the brittleness of bones,
it’s in the sunset and at dawn,
it’s the pain of leaving early
and in the tears of being left.
It’s about the coping
and the knowledge of unknowns.
A very challenging prompt from Brendan at toads made me write this in haste before heading to bed. The harrows and hallows, contrast between being alive and memento mori.