At DuskJun 11th, 2012 | By Martin C. Rosner, M.D. | Category: Poetry | 454 views
Call me greedy, for my lease on life
Is long, well past the day
When I could walk with grace,
And hard men looked away, and ladies
Smiled when I strode along the street.
Now I am reduced to recollections,
And they are just a jest,
A ruse the gods can use
To lift their boredom in eternity.
So knowing this, why do I persist?
Because a meteor flames a microsecond
In the frozen blackness of the void,
But its light is never lost.
©2009 Martin C. Rosner, M.D. All Rights Reserved