Walking Into Yesterday, Tonight

December air, cold sky alight with flickering stars.
I’ve gained this night, at least a bit of its glory,
by sharing it with no one but myself.

So I wander, as I wonder,

Where am I this night?
And I begin to weep, like an orphan growing old.

When a man’s days seem irrelevant

and uncollected, it’s like a stale dream,
a lifeless story.

But then I think, Maybe I’m missing the point.

There’s always a reason for things—maybe, anyway.
Anyway, why question it.

December air, cold sky alight with shooting stars.

I’ve made a few wishes, I’ll be the first to admit,
and I’ll share them with everyone but myself.


From the book Kairos (print version only)