What’s present is present
And past is past.
Too few todays
And less days
In the future.
So much sorrow
It’s hard to measure.
Passages
August 2020
There is a sadness
To this August
That I cannot explain.
There is even hubris
In the gentle rain.
There is even hubris
As the clouds explode.
There is even hubris
In the double Hurricanes.
There is a sadness
To this August
That I cannot explain.