Sisyphus

 

 

The night holds special charm for me, I can finally find the time,

To bring to closure acts of day - penning a poem seems so fine.

And on other days I manage to read, a few pages or a tome,

Soothed by this ritual, sacred and dear, the day's weariness is gone.  

The year end appeals to me so much, I can get rid of weathered skin,

Throw out the window, things that didn't work, take trash out of the bin.

And on other times I manage to go, to places far and wide,

return rejuvenated, just in time, to see the turning of the tide.

 

The death bed looks so romantic, I can afford to be just me,  

Know what matters, with whom to spend time, for the first time clearly see.

And in other lives I might just have, you standing by my side,

But for now your memories haunt and heal, now's no place to hide.

 

With each end comes a beginning, a beginning that with time kills,

I prefer those moments of brief respite, between pushing the stone up the hills.