Hourglass


With skin so pale
As to be translucent
As light shines on it and through it.
Fluted from top to middle
And from the bottom too,
The body curves gracefully.
But so fragile is she,
With a soul of sand,
She is surrounded by crutches,
Like the columns of a temple,
And she will stand beautifully
While time drifts by,
For not even time
Can cause glass to die.