Song Of The Nightingale

Once was a time

I was young enough,

to know and feel the truth

 

But the years laid claim

to my memory,

and the seeds to every fruit

 

Today is but folly,

tomorrow a fool,  

the past like fine wine ages true

 

Where a nightingale sings

in my dreams unrestrained

—that song of myself ever new

 

(The New Room: November, 2020)

Leave a comment