Tuesday, May 16, 2017

At the World's End Somewhere

Until we're well crossed over,
Until we've crossed over and
Vanished in the crossing, we
Must stay. Nearly everything
About that gnomic sentence
Is uncertain. Happiness
Is to the last uncertain,

Much maligned for being so.
Wisdom's what should be certain.
But wisdom literature,
Weirdly, has much to do with
Medicine, more uncertain,
Even, than poor happiness
Left holding fast to the days.

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