A Short Poem for Graduation

Well, not my graduation obviously, but while I was working the shouts from the trucks full of happy students lured me away from analysis and numbers. Here's a poem on time. Bittersweetness and all.

Time trickles like rain behind the pane.

Bleary eyes measure each gain

and each loss on a rusty scale.

Cheery voices fill the distance

with memories of youth.

Old eyes wither, but first they glitter

with a smile for summer.

Wanderer

When the memories of dewdrops

are so short as to be overlooked

between a fallen tear

and an autumn leaf,

how do we judge time?

My old ways have changed,

but the new still go as newly born

and gentle fairies,

striking gold in the oddest

of circumstance and time.

Happy to be here though the Mara

still and always laughs joyfully

in offering reprieves.

It is the nature of night to be contrary.

It is the blessing of life and of time.

When the dark droplets fall unguarded

the ways of thunder feel more like home

again, I am leaving with the shifting tide.

Again I am tickled with the promise

of time.