Monday Diary

Between me and the trees a swarm of gnats

Idle their time before the sun is gone.

 This time tomorrow, if the warmth survives,

Another cloud may wander into view

But not the same, for death comes all too soon

For gnats and mayflies, living on the wing.

My life, at sixty-four, is closing in

And even if I have another score

Or more, I know that every hour I live

Simply brings me closer to the point

When time, however I encompass it,

Will simply stop and I will cease to be.

          Death may worry some, as it grows near,

          But - snuffed out like a gnat - what's there to fear?

Brian Hick autumn 2009

©copyright Sally Hick 5.9.22