8405. WHEN ONCE I CLIMBED

WHEN ONCE 

I CLIMBED

The Scottish guys, with the

bagpipes, were passing again.

I'd know them, and their sound,

anywhere. It's eerie as it is  -

some primal sort of squawk

from the innards of a sheep.

Or a goat too, I'm told. I don't

know  -  all that archaic meadow

stuff befuddles me. The strange,

strange sounds of Nature sad.

I sit here, instead, with a stick,

just tapping a rock, in time, 

some, with the cosmos 

around me. tell me, tell

me, how we lose

such things.

-

Where once I climbed the 

hillock is now a house or two. 

Where once I roamed a meadow 

now a road cuts through. The

whole world seems changed,

yet we suffer from indecision.

Tell me, tell me, how we

lose such things.