BY DR. AGONSON
Desire, sad longing, invades me;
I faint to see dark skies above here,
to know that it soon will be raining.
I miss what is yet to be lost.
We have, but have naught, for the ticking.
The day is ending, my step slowing,
and then I grow still, am unmoving.
I must say goodbye to my love.
Desire to stay, but she leaves me.
I call but she’ll not linger on here;
and when the night comes it is raining.
I’ll leave, but I know I am lost.
And yet the sun, I see still fades,
burning in brilliant crimson rays.
A setting sun is grand indeed
—on such beauty spirits can feed.
I’ll live a little longer now
—though night encroach, light wins somehow.
Though every day, I know, must end,
sunsets promise sunrises mend.