Cracks

There are cracks,
like the side walk to an eternal summer.

Where hope was written in chalk;
now seems faded, and with age,
broken.

What is this,

              Life?

Deepens and fills,
like the gravel and dirt,
just to be washed away.

the empty perspective,
the obscured vision,
consummated.


At once forgotten,

but, for an instance known.