Time

We all know that nothing lasts.
Our sun will eventually burn itself out.

Glaciers melt like ice cubes in a glass
Sieves of wind sift the soil

to fine powder following droughts.
Sea storms gouge off chunks of coasts.

No lesson taken by Albert Pinkham Ryder.
who laid on gobs of wet paint over globs

of pure moist pigment with a palette knife,
then glazed with rags sopping with varnish.

These sagging ruins are virtually sliding off
the canvas. Air and light have faded early cave

and pyramid drawings. And now I read
that Van Gogh’s yellows have muddied.

My mother’s memory flakes away daily.
Time paints with a wide brush.

—Sarah Brown Weitzman

BIO: Sarah Brown Weitzman has been published in hundreds of journals and anthologies including Miramar, The New Ohio Review, Poet & Critic, The North American Review, Rattle, Mid-American Review, Ekphrasis, Poet Lore, Spillway, etc. Sarah received a Fellowship from the National Endowment for the Arts. A departure from poetry, her fourth book, Herman and The Ice Witch, is a children’s novel published by Main Street Rag.