858. WARRANT

WARRANT
It's not easy coming to terms
with old age - the wrangling divide,
choosing the theme, between tempest
and where to hang one's hat, on which
post, and - of course - for how long.
I warrant nothing but the bitches who
come forth. It's been a nice enough
ride but who knows?
-
'I sometimes hold it half a sin
to put in words the grief I feel.
For words, like nature, half reveal
and half conceal the soul within.'
-
I do not know if Tennyson
ever really laughed. I know I hope
he did. And I know that, humorously,
my own fingers do not hold as tightly
to time and death as did his.
-
When death comes greeting, I hope
it's on a coach of foaming froth,
on a coach of foaming froth
and nothing more.