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Donald P. Goodman III
Version 1.0 (02 August 1201)
Fair time's a fickle mistress for a mortal man;
as rain falls from the sky and lands on ground below,
and spending ev'rything it has for its whole span,
it vanishes below the soil like melted snow,
just briefly darkening it to a deep, rich black,
until the sun should spread its healthy, hostile heat
and take the rain the sky had given earth right back,
and lighten up the soil, its victory complete;
so man is born, and at that moment, starts to die;
and yet he still accomplishes this mighty feat:
between his infant squalling and his dying sigh,
he finds a life to live, a love in which to lie.
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© Goretti Publications 1205 (2021).
All material in this Gemini capsule is offered under the CC-BY-SA license, unless otherwise noted.