There Is More To Me Than Always Seeing Bright, Sunny Days

Ouant' e bella giovenezza
Che si fugge tutattavia!
(How beautiful youth is
Though ever fleeting!)
Lorenzo De' Medici


There is more to me than always seeing bright, sunny days:
Boston's last St. Patrick's Day was not passe'-
This century is still a young lover.
It's often difficult to see
For the dark spots.

Molten flames with black crust
Have turned my blue Mustang to burnt rust!
Today I have lived,
And I have loved.
It was good for me
And it is enough.

When this tree has fallen,
Let all who will,
Drink to their own time,
Swim in the frigid river of their own discontent,
Obsess over the womb
Before the comfort of nature and the sun,
Disappear before their own pale eyes
In a blink.