83.

Remember our mothers who bore us

And the children who will forget us

And the fruit that we were that will drop

Into the deep of the earth. The rapture

Of a sudden roaring world, the sea smashing

Shore outside my window, will always be

Us, hero, heroine, to our mother, father

And the turning away of time in a dream.

When we were children, we thought the old old

And now we know that was never so

That time speeds and eats flesh faster

Like a wasting disease, and we need to search,

Hold others to us, the world, to gather

As we are left more and more alone.