Yesterday is a gingerbread
soaked and slurped in syrup,
made livelier in a spread
of marshmallow dollops;
that pockmarked raisins
pester with sour questions,
and stomp off to gossip
in mock-parlour sessions.

Meanwhile each new day
dithers, waits and wallows.
Mornings that crumble
breadcrumbs over shallows,
become misty-eyed and clueless
evenings of tuneless swallows,
that peck and grovel at the hem
of yellow saints one hallows.