The Falling Curtain By P D Dawson
The Falling Curtain
Has the world changed beyond all knowing,
or is it within my disturbed mind, aloft?
Has this water risen from ancient rivers, flowing?
Can I touch it as if it were historical frost?
Just like the faces that douse within its confines,
time passes us all from light to dark
But what hangs in darkness must be divine,
for we have sped forward to meet its mark
Has this world a conscience to question time?
Does it know of the scars it has to bear?
Like a global theatre it turns and it turns
I wonder what costumes
the future will wear?
P D Dawson