‘Twixt darkened clouds of rampant rain
(Beleaguered by gusts of snowy drift) –
As to bless the trees, the sunlight fain
Would, as it could, persistently strain
Yet not enclose the winter’s rift.
But in those days of unwitting bliss
(In retrospect) is rapture seen,
For lenience grants some small remiss
Above my pow’r to reminisce,
As faults seep slowly through between.
Yet ever should I wish to stay
(If not by necessity taken –
I have debts and ideas to pay)
Within the boundless limits of day
And choose, at least, when I awaken!
It seems that seeming lack of light
Assumes a role more capital still;
In older age, a similar blight
Relinquishes not a hold so tight
Except to acknowledge a stronger will.
I think the grass looks fairer green,
And remember lovelier days
Of heated, effulgent sunlight keen
To make its miseries unseen
Amidst far grander, glorious displays.

by Adam Fuller

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