Nunc

Precious, jewelled joys have slipped

Through my fingers. Fragile gems lost.

I was fearful and adrift, and now

At year end, I count the cost

Many many moments of happiness

Have shimmered, then burned away,

Like heat haze on summer days. And now,

It is winter. And I am cold today.

Ice forms fill my heart. My skin tinges blue,

My soul has forgotten how to sing

My joints are stiff and slow. And now,

I wonder where is spring?

Ó Teresa Durran 181231