So Swiftly Beyond
Suddenly like a child you grow
fretful apropos
of nothing I can understand.
I think it is the child
within the man
And I think of how little
I truly know
even now, after all these years
what it is in you so close to tears.
Fretful, like a cloud at the faintest streak
of lightning
You who stands the mortal storms.
It takes so long to gather
a cloud
to hide in when the sad heart
aches
And no one knows what it takes
to build a dike to shore up the lake.
I’d rather he was here to hear any praise
These words I should have
written long ago:
I know the way day follows
after day.
I finally knew that he was growing old
But those I knew seemed ever young to me
And, I alone, not like I used to be;
Time’s not the place.