Having long ago gone past
The equinox, of my being
Now, it’s only atrophy
In myself I’m seeing
Yet, I grudgingly march on
To the solstice in my life
A meeting with that grim
And hooded thing, with scythe
But, this journey to my destiny
At the end of perdition’s road
Is made, not with heavy heart
But with joy, from easing of the load
BOEMS BY JA 286