by Luis G. Dato
And now we’re sixty — six decades are run
Of the allotted, precious, limited span
Which we are pleased to call the life of man,
Till his day sets, like setting of the sun.
Now by the looks, these many years have gone
On a life we may call catch-as-catch-can,
And though in seeming health, not haggard, wan,
The query might be asked, “What have u done?”
Alas, our sonnet sequence has not yet
Reached, as it promised, the two red mark —
Incentives all have failed, our goddess brown
Has made decision doubly clear: “Forget!”
And in love’s perilous sea, no Noah’s ark
To rescue — only dark oblivion’s frown!
