The Whirling Wheels of Change

All changes at each station stop,
as some jump on, off others hop.
A few with you the journey spend
from the beginning to the end.

Some with the wind spin as a top
when tables turn then off they drop.
Some hand in hand take arms, defend
your cause, and, tender, heartache mend.

Acquaintances along the way
appear, uncertain is their stay,
for there are some who one short day
take time, make trouble, before they
all hospitality gainsay,
leave empty promises of May.

”long cool sequestered way” we wend
each day, - though few may count as friend
how precious each, no need to sop
when reciprocity won’t stop.

The train of life rounds one last bend,
it is your own turn to descend.
As Charon ploughs another crop
someone else must mind the shop...

© Jonathan ROBIN Poem written 12 December 1974 & 12 April 2005

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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