Last Dance at the Edge of Zero

by

Doug Larson

Time is out of time.
So now I write this epilogue
or epitaph;
to eulogize future history here,
at the end of time.

There was a time,
all our efforts to prevent
it's passing
exposed our hidden impotence
somewhere in our history.

I remember a time
that you and I designed our dreams
for the future,
now passed into sweet oblivion
before our aging eyes.

We dreamed of tomorrow,
and tomorrow always rose with the sun
to melt the dew,
and we basked in the moment, the warm
fingers of the present on our skin.

Now, there is no time.
The future is disappearing at the edge
of the world,
and the sweet scent of the moment fades
into the insatiable abyss.

There once was a time
less urgent, for tomorrow's promise
of another chance.
Now, all I ask is for one last dance, here;
at the edge of zero.

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NEXT?
Why don't you look at In Nature's World
by: Francis Duggan
from: Wonthaggi, Victoria, Australia

To visit all of Doug Larson's poems, click HERE

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