poems

Derived Revised (lines on Autumn’s beginning)

of late I find I sit no more
to wonder on the whims of man
as for fifteen and two score
years in, I don’t know who I am
so who am I to think upon
the foibles felt by other hearts
they’ll still be there when I am gone
and from man’s company have parted.
so therefore I’ll watch the wheels
of sun and moon’s eternal drive
and simply for the present feel
my own existence to derive.