We who with songs beguile your pilgrimage / And swear that Beauty lives though lilies die, / We Poets of the proud old lineage / Who sing to find your hearts, we know not why ... (James Elroy Flecker)
Showing posts with label apocalypse. Show all posts
Showing posts with label apocalypse. Show all posts

1.2.24

Old Age: a Silver Lining

 

Eighty-four,

and not yet ready

to be gone –

but, with luck,

I'll pre-decease the looming

end of our planet.



Form: shadorma


Written for Friday Writings #112: Silver lining, at Poets and Storytellers United.