From their buds the roses pop
And the long day slinks
to an end
When will all this come to a stop
This road, this road without a bend.
The curlew calls upon its nest
And I think of the girls I have known
Oh curlew, the one that I loved best
Comes to my mind fully blown.
Cry then, for all past years blend
And the pains of living abate
Not mine to avert what the savage
years send
Though precisely what I await.
June 22, 2014