Time Pieces

The times of our lives.

Does time abduct the 

days as we grow old?
On wings of minutes,
silver turns to gold.
News-worthy moments
lying on their side
as shutters in the
winds of time collide.
Ladders we ascend
with heartbeats all apace,
days of our lives are
carried off in space.

Appointed, we are here
to live and die--next
to the edge of fate,
we laugh, and we cry.
Directed by a
chance we come to think
existence is the
birthing-coffin link.
Revealed to us in
middle age we know
some metal deep with-
in us stays aglow.
Of that we pledge, the
saving has begun,
next to the vault of
age as we grow young.