The First one

A Poem by C. Townsen

Fates.

The First one measures out the thread, as
The Second sharpens the golden shears.
The Third sister looks on, not truly seeing;
      her eyes are clouded with cataracts like time.
She takes up the shears, and
The first two hold the thread taught, then
      Snip!
Somewhere in the dark, a candle gutters out.

The Second sister smiles to the First,
       Another job well done.
They peer to the Third, but she is
       already gone.