Stolen Moments

Inscriptions on the clock
foretell the future,
carved in black and white
from one to twelve—
 that time, 
although it may give the illusion
of standing still,
continues 
on a never-ending path.

Moments cast on glances, 
caught between a heartbeat 
and a breath,
alight like feather kisses 
trailed along the neck,
tattooing memories on aching skin
with fingertips.

Moments stolen
between unbroken seconds,
enfolded 
in arms engraved
with retrospections and desires,
whispering unspoken words
between two hearts.

And time,
although it may give the illusion
of standing still
keeps rolling on.
  

august 2006
©Janet Reid






Awarded by New Horizons