Oh Child, why
do you wander so;
Is there not enough
keep by a heaven’s star
to know –
nor pure moonlight to leap far
into the dream’s
lie within your eye
Staked... near earth’s strained cry?
Hey Kid, the
cards are dealt
To those who
sit at the table
Of green felt –
As the point,
standing between a spade and a heart fable,
Plays out to a
last call
While the dealer’s
face evaporates into a pall.
Sit old man,
here by the side
And regret the many
hands misplayed
And laid out
wide –
For the story
is same; waylaid
By youth’s unbridled
act of ambition
And then negotiated
away towards terms of volition.
