Poetry by Tracy Marks

Measure of Time

copyright 1978 by Tracy Marks

Once I would measure time
only when alone
for the eyes
with whom I shared myself
needed no measuring.
I would apportion
each moment in advance,
living each one fully,
loving each face I knew
far more.

but now
in the stillness
of the afternoon,
my watchband frayed,
the memories soft
and fragile in my mind,
I hesitate to touch
each sharp, each poignant
moment, afraid
to find upon my wrist
a broken crystal.

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