Even Fear Grows Old

for Donald on his 60th

Every child is an oracle
Telling the present;
While you rub the sleep from your eyes
They park on your chest.

Ambitions are accidental.
I mortared my want
Round decisions found like rocks in my shoes –
They read as a list.

What wasn’t possible
Is now old and frequent.
No matter what the fat man whispers,
Never mind the schoolboy fears,
Collect these paper scraps of prayers
And burn in the west.

2 Replies to “Even Fear Grows Old”

  1. Happy birthday greetings to Don with lots of love, memories of market breakfasts and a poem by Li Bai…

    From a pot of wine among the flowers
    I drank alone. There was no one with me –
    Till, raising my cup, I asked the bright moon
    To bring me my shadow and make us three.
    Alas, the moon was unable to drink
    And my shadow tagged me vacantly;
    But still for a while I had these friends
    To cheer me through the end of spring….
    I sang. The moon encouraged me.
    I danced. My shadow tumbled after.
    As long as I knew, we were boon companions.
    And then I was drunk, and we lost one another.
    …Shall goodwill ever be secure?
    I watch the long road of the River of Stars.

Comments are closed.