Morning's Time

On that glorious day
Leaping clouds shouted - irrepressible
Against a teal-blue early spring sky.
Morning held an armful of joy in her apron
As she stood on the hillside, face to the sun.
~ ~
But Time raised his angry head -
Beating at her with a late blizzard wind,
Grabbing for her with gnarled branches.
~ ~
Morning
Squatted down on stubborn haunches,
Turning her back squarely to the whipping wind.
~ ~
Then I saw her tired feet slipping.
~ ~
Save me an hour!
I screamed, jumping to catch her;
Just one short hour
To keep in my hollow log, safe
Beneath a patchwork quilt of mosses,
So I can bring it out again
To sing to me of youthful love songs, and to
Waft delicate scents of spring blossoms over me,
On lonely frozen winter nights!
~ ~
But the wind raged higher, wilder -
And suddenly she lost her hold,
And blew away.