My fingers slide through the window blinds,
my eyes peer into the waking dawn.
Death and rebirth of civilization--mankind
Adorn a portrait of a past long gone.
I shift back under my covers
with my arms crossed beneath my head.
Outside the calmness meets the walker
with his face beyond "ahead"
Wrinkles cross his forehead freely,
Spreading to the edge of memories.
His face painted with reflecting debris
joyfully crinkles up with elegant ease.
Long has his hands felt the harsh soil
and still nurtured the land to sing,
Long has his back endured harsh toil
Yet still, he denied his long-due passing.
