Day 727 of the Daily Poems, and the last day of the month of November, which finds your Editor in reflective mood – but hey! it’s only a poem. Get thee behind me, Time’s wingèd chariot! Oh, you’re there already …
Tempus fugit, amor manet
It is the November of our years
and I could call on much regretting
as over time each one of us discovers
how close the sun is to its hour of setting.
Our life was full of incident and drama
of upsets and the wildest of dreams
then as we aged we thought life would be calmer
yet now it’s fraying at the seams.
Peter Ualrig Kennedy
… though we cannot make our sun / Stand still, yet we
will make him run (Andrew Marvell 1621-1678)