Time is such a strange friend,
Making herself at home,
Walking between us
Weaving between each rib
As we are lulled
The blur of color past our eyes
Comfort, we tap our fingers
As the world outside changes as we rest
The dark scenes of a play
Time trips to change the set before the lights
Are on
And babies become boys
Cloud thighs to bronze pillars
Young lovers, we talk with time
welcome her but
She slowly weaves her changes in our hair
at the corners of our eyes
While we aren’t watching
The leaves catch the sun and illuminated
just before the sun sets
