I'm a wee bit sad at the end of every day,
for time it seems is never on my side.
One's possible paths, reduced to a single way
which narrows in proportion to one's shortened stride,
the shadow we cast and in which we hide
growing deeper, darker, finally less distinct…
Alas, I bury myself beneath worn-out tropes
that vaguely pertain to old fears and hopes -
romantic graffiti with which my mind is inked.
How I long for that giddy semantic surprise
which launched me into my cerebrusphere
as I first set out some thirty-odd years ago!
The latent was one with its manifest disguise,
and youthful obfuscation made things clear.
For all that was known, there was that much to unknow.