What time does to poetry - a photo by T Newfields

Juanita: Sooner or later, don't all words vanish into silence?
Ella: Of course. The moths of time devour all fabrics.
Shu: Perhaps we should think of words as seeds. Some sprout. Others never germinate. Eventually, however, all decays. . .
Juanita: (raising her eyebrows) Why are we having this conversation?
Shu: Because the best way to treasure a moment is to realize how short it actually is . . .