The wind, how it caresses your cheeks
A wandering ghost
Just a mere passerby
Time, in a silent night it still creeks

If only to catch the petal flying by
So you wait, you linger
Nothing comes, always late
Touched briefly by a fluttering butterfly

Time, with all its weight
How it comes and goes
Enthralling, how it all has been done
You there, staring at an empty plate

All you ever get is the fleeting warmth of the sun
All that you have to give is for you in the end, you alone
And that has to be good enough
Much has ended, even though it barely begun.

-A.Garcia