Can moments be measured?
The way minutes can?
Is there a clock somewhere
With a moment hand?
Some moments are heavenly
And some are from hell.
There are moments meant to be secret,
And others that you must tell.
The one destined for all to know,
The other, forever in the heart to dwell.
Euphoric moments that we wish to last,
Are quickly snatched from our tenuous grasp.
While dreaded moments feel endless in length,
Stabbing and gnawing and ebbing our strength.
The one truth about moments that I surely know,
Is that moments come and moments go.
Peggye Weaver is a Chicago native, received bachelor’s degree from SIU, Carbondale, Illinois and master’s degree from Cambridge College, Cambridge, Massachusetts, both in education. Worked as a bilingual (Spanish) primary teacher and later as a Visual Arts Specialist in the Chicago Public Schools. Worked as a mental health administrator for a private non-profit in San Francisco, CA. Retired from Chicago Public Schools in 2012. Worked as a substitute teacher until the pandemic in 2020.
“I like to draw and paint and sometimes write. I love to dance and was a regular stepper at the Rat Pack weekly after work set and others until Covid. I’ve never married and have no children.”