Wednesday, April 9, 2014


The sun has passed its zenith, and
The birds have ceased their song.
And soon it will be sinking, with
The shadows stretching long.

And some may yearn to end the day
And others to extend it.
But where's the way to change the pace
At which we make a transit?


We wonder at the marvels of
The planet we are on.
We just arrived at dawn and yet,
By dusk, we shall be gone.

We still retain the memories
Of the hours that went before.
Will those suffice to deal with what
There’s still, for us, in store?


We’ve played upon the flute of life,
We’ve beaten on the drum.
We’ve won and lost our battles, but
Who totals up the sum?

We do not know, from where we came,
Nor where we next will go.
And as for how and why we are,
That too, we do not know.


But now the day is winding down,
As shows and watches do.
And so it is for galaxies
And so for me and you.

The sun had risen in the east.
The birds were chirping loud.
The sun is sinking in the west.
But what’s it all about?

2014 April 7th, Monday, 5:03 pm
Teachers’ Cafeteria, Basement
New Utrecht High School.

Two stanzas added April 9th, evening,
and another (the second) on the 10th night,
at home, Bensonhurst, Brooklyn

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