Scenes in Sepia

All we ever had was
time. Stolen from clocks
ticking our normal lives
away. A flash of minutes,
images on a transient stage.

Theater performance.
Limited screenings – a few
savored scenes in sepia,
playing against
an orchestrated hum.
Symphonic melody rising
until the heavy red velvet
curtain fell, the lights
went up, brightly glaring —

and in that hot white light
of mourning – the hum hushed,
as the symphony quietly ended
and all we ever had was
time stolen from clocks ticking
our normal lives away.

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