Older
I will be blithe tonight.
The wind is high
I will walk alone beneath the sky
I will not let it happen, this tendency
To see oneself so righteous, so sober
The monotony of age overcoming
Rejecting what is curious, young and free
Because they are young, never will I act
As though their wholeness could be packed
Into that fragment of their knowledge, their youth
I will be a person, a growing cell
I will retain the right to wish and rebel
I will throw octopus arms that will invisibly grow
To squeeze a thought, which once ran swift and keen
Not into a stodgy pattern of routine
I will look at the sky tonight
And count the stars tonight
And I will make a wish
And I will dream of young things....
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