The thing with moments
Is that they never stay
Ethereal, chimerical 
They alight and fly away 
They come upon us 
On gossamer whispery wings 
Or rush with such force 
That you’re left reeling
The breath knocked out of you
And then they’re gone
Or they cloak you silently 
So imperceptibly 
Like the lengthening shadows 
Of eventide 
That you realize 
That they were there 
Only after they have quietly 
Etherised into yesterday’s dawn

The thing with moments
Is that they never last 
Always on nimble feet 
They are fleeting pin pricks
On your skin
A quick rush of warmth within
The lungs for a moment collapsing 
A vanishing scene
The stuff of dreams
Always receding 
But not before leaving 
Their forever tattoos 
In reds, yellows and blues
A kiss, a hug, a bruise 
Eternal imprints on the heart 
Emotional ink
Permanent, piercing 
Sunk deeply in 
By the wraiths and ghosts 
Of moments past.