'Fragments of Time'

Rain pelting the pain,

Where muscles won't flex

An escape into flight,

Like a swan on a lake

Feeling the fragments that tangle,

The memories of places

The tables of feasts,

Where we supped the sweet wine

A hand to grasp,

A certainty of being

Together in music,

That warmth to remember

The familiar figure,

The welcome at the door

That hinge that holds,

The swing to serenity

The falling fantasy of chords,

Strung in songs that played

A melody of other times,

In the ecstatic fragments that linger

©Mary Cecil