On Growing Old
As it would thirty years ago,
beauty appeared last night
with great unconscious gravity
and its promise that everything
will be well and there’s no future.
(Oh Lord, is this what Pont’ Santa
Trinità was really about?).
But the heart now knows that because
time has passed, even this shall pass,
and turns to the small, unchosen
chores desired to be eternal.
❖ ❖ ❖
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