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Beauty Wasted, Beauty Lost, Meaningless!
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Loss Cold winter sunshine, failing to warm me,
Falls, filled with shadows, mottled on the stone.
Filtered by branches, oaken, half bare.
Gold evening sunshine, golden the leaf fall,
Autumnal splendour, the season I love.
Glass clear, the air, distant a crow's call.
Bright squirrels dance on the carpet of mast.
Beauty wasted, beauty lost, meaningless!
Two figures huddle at the graveside.
The new stone, basalt, hewn by nature,
Is our whole world, for an hour or so.
The carving of a door with a flight of steps,
The symbol suggestive of a life beyond.
A name and dates, too close together.
This is all we are left of a young life.
Beauty wasted, beauty lost, meaningless!
Bitter, the cold drives us from the graveyard,
In the failing light. To the east high cloud,
Bearing the first snows, crisp, pristine, blue-white.
Covering the land in a silent mantle,
A foot deep, in the long October night.
Children awaken and scream with delight,
Grab gloves and sledges, the first snowball flies.
Beauty wasted, beauty lost, meaningless!
