“One Further Yesterday”
One further yesterday, the cinders linger still, the greeting on the lips
Of flocks of fine bovine acquaintances and many-frenzied friends
Who must now fall and from whom all consequences flow, the bliss of ends
And obscure sins were deemed a Holy Rapture but not so long ago. The icy tips
Became but sirens to the boys whose tongues were frozen, locked on fences built
To keep the snow bank from the doors and tempt us all as something to explore,
Some infantile rule to contemplate. So much for winters knocking at the doors
Of childhood’s reason; adieu the stuff of puerile goals and purposes. Some quilts
Sewn from plenteous philosophies that never made it to the couch or if they had
Were gathered with no need to make the bed nor turn the covers down.
He sleeps alone tonight as he did then; no need to frown
On frosts on feral days and nights when as it happened he was glad
To be his own best friend and knew whose kin and friendship nearer
Came to roost when before each sleep he gazed once again into the mirror.