The Old Man's Lament

The child-sun blazes
through grey morning fog
his passion overpowers
night’s sluggish slog
‘till bright noon’s on fire
with his effervescent love,

but it’s all the same, it’s
all the same.
Morning, noon, and night
may embrace our little lives,
but it’s all the same.

The ancient moon rises
in the fast-fading east.
Bloody sun dies, failed day retreats,

but it’s all the same, it’s all
the same.
Morning, noon, and night
may consume our little lives
but it’s all the same, all
the same.

poem by Steven Federle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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