The Years Unfolding

Bent like the pages you are turning past

not to stay, not to last
Revelation you’ve missed all along 
 
One step in front of the other
It’s all such a blunder 
Epiphany of what could be
Sparse autumn leaves
Flushed against a wall of green
 
They fall on us dry and brittle 
like the friable edge of my soul
And if I had half to sell 
Could the other half still keep me whole
regenerate in to something new  
And leave nothing left to long 
 
Birds above in sync and tune  
I’m feel incapable of the same
I’m reminded that there’s life above my trenches
But my skill doesn’t reach 
And into the depth of song I sink
Out of rhythm, out of tune
 
For a brief moment of thought is 
All I can call mine, all I still own
Our rank apparent by the colors we wear
But our knowledge fails to transpire
We stand around the limbs of objects 
Far removed from our present spot
Both in time and in thought
 
Do better next time
Ideals, if only we could live up to
Beneath the green we wear like years 
we’re just sweat from pores and porcelain white 
under the blinding lights
Trying to clinch the life as it slips

No better than last time