"Alas, how long ago this morning seems this evening!"
Lunch breaks I drink beer, read books, and write poems.
That's all the wisdom I have about that.
Day breaks and I'm likely as not awake, hoping
To have some moonlit morning to myself,
And that's all I can know about that.
Night breaks over the cliffs of Zion, scattering
Sparks of colored lights on the anvil of West Temple,
Conflating near and bright with dim, old, far,
Farther than anything I can imagine about that.
I break, and the surprise of the familiar reminds me,
Nothing anything can do about that.