With
our legs swinging,
The
water lapping, glinting.
We
watch the sun sail
Across
the low horizon
And
sink beneath the sea.
But
that is not the passing of time for you
Or
the passing of time for me.
For
the sun flies a little slower for you,
Child
of tomorrow.
It
sinks a little faster for me,
Man
of yesterday.
How
many sunsets have I witnessed?
How
many sunsets have you missed?
How
many sunsets until you read my name
Upon
a list?
He
was kind, the print will say.
He
was brave,
(Though
at times he played the knave).
When
you see the sun set in a blazing hail of color,
Shades
you never knew you’d see,
Know
that time is surely passing.
The
colors at the end of the sea
We
see at day's beginning.
They
fade to sunken mystery
And
rise at day’s cold end.
