Things That Have Grown

Irresolution marks the greying age

and caution slips away to make her last

farewells, while sloth begins to turn the page,

then hesitates and lingers, and the fast

begun in earnest hope of fortitude

and influence cannot recall its hunger,

though tastes of summer, tang and tart, make food

of autumn bitter; and every glance grown younger,

when the manuscripts were supple, had nimble choice.

She regains her charming place, seducing eyes

that otherwise would rest within, or voice

grown silent as a caterpillar’s grin

the morning’s silk-enshrouded, shrivelled skin.