a time for ......

Home is where one remains as the weather grows colder
And the world becomes darker, the pattern of light less alluring
Only cloud and blackness and rain. No intense moment
Wandering isolated along river pathways,
But reflection of lifetime caught in untimed moment
And not the lifetime of oneself only
But of old images that cannot be fully deciphered.
There is a time for the evening following the setting sun,
A time for the evening under lamplight
(The evening with the photograph album).
Significance is most nearly itself
When here and now and elsewhere cease to matter.

with apologies to Mr Eliot

TD x