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Nothing in this world seems to last.
The peace of an early morning sunrise,
the joy of a conversation,
is here only for a moment,
then it’s suddenly past.
is here only for a moment,
then it’s suddenly past.
The gentle breeze that blows
while on the front porch rocking,
becomes a storm of dark clouds –
lightning and thunder –
coming so suddenly it’s absolutely shocking.
becomes a storm of dark clouds –
lightning and thunder –
coming so suddenly it’s absolutely shocking.
On Monday you look in the mirror
and find a grey hair in your head.
On Tuesday, you tell your family and friends goodbye,
and by Wednesday, you’re dead.
and find a grey hair in your head.
On Tuesday, you tell your family and friends goodbye,
and by Wednesday, you’re dead.
Nothing in this world seems to last.
It’s here for a moment then it’s suddenly past.
This poem © Kevin Walker. Published February 2013.
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