Silver days

My days are silver now
slipping away behind me in a river I can't collect
through my fingers, through my toes and around my thies.
The swirls of eather are engulfing even the top of my head
And my skirt is tangled in time.
My weight sends me floating in a current where
I can only guide what is me, not what is around me.
I am taken to no shore
But if I am careful, I can avoid the boulders
And not swallow too much time at one time.