The Equation of Mass

The days on earth wear thin Like my hair And where girdles pull in a Sagging mass And memory is washed by a Lunar pull- Like the tide that washes over Footprints in the sand Soon memories are gone like a dying star grows dim And I return recycled to The worms But my heart knows a better Place- Where reserved for me I know so well- I will glow in -The eternal day That is- my permanent home Brenda V Northeast