Before the light of morning,
I am fully awake,
Staring at my face in the mirror,
The water running softly.
It has been running for some time.
I raise my hands to my face,
My fingers linger along and trace
The line of my cheekbones.
This skin will one day fall away,
The cheekbones turn to dust.
One finger runs down my nose,
A line slightly bent
By an experience that rent
My faith with hard cement.
This nose too will vanish.
The hair at my sides a bit grayish,
Showing how fast the days run.
They have been running for some time.
And though we run after our days,
Always we lag behind.
Ours is a fruitless race,
Death already shows on my face.
And my hair will fall into the sink
Sooner than I think.
In the growing light of morning
The birds begin to call,
Their cheerful sounds an invitation
To lay in bed once more
Until the sunlight is too bright
To sleep, perchance to dream.
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