It's Still Life

To Jump on the Wrong Parade

Time is a fugitive,
a swift hand,
sunbeams,
the leaven in dough.
Time is change,
a sprung coil,
a once loved.
It’s a day,
a lifetime,
a reach.
It’s sand pouring blind on everything but itself.
It’s barren.
Bleak.
And ultimately triumphant.

Inspired by Bibliomancy’s “to jump on the wrong parade” and Miz Quickly’s Sunday Random prompt  © Misky 2021