Unspent

Colors begin to dissipate,
Turning opaque shades of yellow and grey.
As the sun releases its firey grip
Sounds soften footfall to echoes
And the moment disappears within
The dying pulse of yesterday.

The spoiled scent of a summer unspent
Is still with me when I awake.
I contemplate within the walls
Of my projected complexity
How much of my life
The coming day will take.

While the sun's last breath
Consumes the shadows of the trees
The world begins to transmogrify.
Aging years by way of minutes
I can no longer allow the hours
To pass without a watchful eye.

© 2004, Jennifer D. Lac Kamp