Peddlers of Time

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Abstract

splash</a></figcaption></figure>How do we measure those fleeting moments cradled within crimson sunsets on the horizon, the filtered golden sunlight the swollen moon and sautéed stars?Hidden in the rearview mirror peddlers of time crocheting the breaking dawn embroidering the twilight mortgaging words to pay the piper as crested nightfall turn

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s to obsidian midnight.Stolen or borrowed yesterday today tomorrow beguiles each second left upon the clock. Each moment precious lost or wasted auctioned traded pawned sold to the highest bidder or exquisitely restitched as gentle spring to summer, or as autumn folds to winter.© Connie Song 2023. All Rights Reserved.</article></body>

Poetry

How do we measure those fleeting moments cradled within crimson sunsets on the horizon, the filtered golden sunlight the swollen moon and sautéed stars?

Hidden in the rearview mirror peddlers of time crocheting the breaking dawn embroidering the twilight mortgaging words to pay the piper as crested nightfall turns to obsidian midnight.

Stolen or borrowed yesterday today tomorrow beguiles each second left upon the clock. Each moment precious lost or wasted auctioned traded pawned sold to the highest bidder or exquisitely restitched as gentle spring to summer, or as autumn folds to winter.