Times and Seasons
Our dusks were gentle ebbs—
And every time of day had moods,
Reflected in our minds.
As joy was in the air.
Though suffering was all around,
We did not then despair.
Yet dawns and dusks proceed—
And seasons come and seasons go
Of sun—and fear and greed.
Are not of restful sleep.
We slide towards the precipice
And glimpse the waiting deep.
Do not return again.
And so, while still in fading light,
The darkness is embraced.
Brooklyn, New York
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