All -

Everything -

Is a web

Of dusty chain

Linked

Each to

Every other link

In unique pattern

Of life.

It does not rust

Or tarnish

But it melts

With age,

Dripping historical residue

Upon the main

Of past.

The cup

That would catch it

Is a sieve

Too fine to drain

It all to the sand below.

I hold the cup

And I would swipe

Bottom and sides

To retrieve

The scant remains

That yet escape

Through my fingers

That cannot hold

Their quarry,

But they bear a stain

That has a certain color.

At most,

I can try

To name

And describe it

Though soon

It too will escape -

Will wash away

As I bathe to cleanse

Me of

Time's pollution.

Is this enough

To inspire me

To blot it

Painstakingly on paper -

An ink so delicate,

Growing dimmer

With every word?

I'll try

Before I wash my hands.

I must

Or I too will wash

Away

Down the drain

With the glue of it

For its attached

To me.

Addie W. Williams
10-27-1982