Frameworks of Farewell

The framework of farewell is filled with moments spilled and spentInto a little locket frilled with laughter and lamentWhere what we argue or reject, or believe and embraceBecomes part of the retrospect that farewell’s frames showcase Sometimes it seems I almost see Father Time tease my sighWith a fedora jauntily pulled down over one eyeHe tips his hat and with the other hand touches my cheek‘There, there, you know I understand the words you cannot speak’ Sometimes I think I sense him wink as one more year becomesThe latest, stationary link of soldered cookie crumbsAnd sums soft-shook from flowers that we plant, then pluck and pressBetween books filled with hours of love’s hopeful happiness Where bittersweet, an echo-fleet embarks upon a seaThat surges with the thrum of bare feet lost on Bygone’s leaWhere frames of farewell gaped while hellos rang in the New YearFrom thresholds barely shaped before their doorways disappear ...into the mist of faces kissed and arms that ache becauseWe cannot gather back the vista of The Way/Day That WasWhere the New Year that tolled a bell dangling from midnight’s skies Is stilled in frameworks of farewell with now Old Year’s demise Darling, (dear, Father Time, forgive my bold intimacy)But you perplex the poet's rhyme without apology And vex brave fantasy with fact; darling, then hold me nearAnd I will hold your hat while you kiss away yesteryear © Janet Martin