The Lone Man
Detail from "Nighthawks" by Hopper
Now is today,
which will be
yesterday,
and was once
tomorrow.
Render time as you would
a bouquet of roses to your love.
They,
like all the beauties of the world,
will,
quicker than a lie,
whimper and die.
They lived for a time,
an eternal instant,
a touchdown eternity.
The earth is made
of flecks of matter,
lovingly crafted
and joined to form
a solid living mass
on which we stride
the day long in light,
on which we lay our heads
when the night spreads
its dark quilt upon
our shivering bodies.
The lone man
is more alone
than any finite star
He shivers despite the quilt
and the raging fire he has built.
Warmth can come, though,
from a southern breeze:
the heart's breath.
No Warmth can come
from northern gales:
the head's details.
Embrace the breath and taste its warmth.
Then will the morning cool
spring from your loins like a lamb.
Keep faith with the burning tiger
in the jungle's dark silent breath
till endless time whistles death.
