I cringe to leave that from which I have grown. Time brings only new sadness. and the future becomes a curse. Each breacking breath of the infant day, separates me from mine, and I wonder where my emotions lie. Why is it the sun with his bloody birth of morning, and sanguine slide at night, that makes our soft mad children gasp. It is the cycle that demands our attention and age, as it tears the book of life page by page.
Summer flows into fall and the colours hear their call.
I watch the seasons slow surrender and think of home, pondering with all hope and humility why, why each man must walk alone.