A Reckoning
A Reckoning life broke ten whipstocks Over my back, broke faith, stole hope, Before I denounced the covenant of courage. Robinson Jeffers Suicide’s Stone Maybe lately, two years before you turn eighty, the way you take in the day makes what in yesterdays would weigh barely anything bear down nearly deadly today, the way any newly poured crude sinks in and oozes its gloss covering on the wings of ducks, in the lungs of seals who all can’t get out of the accidental or purposed opening when the ship runs aground. Maybe age is seeing it all come for us and finally (while in days gone by we’d’ve hauled what-all to the protective tall grass off in the smallest dune in the cove) let it all fall and the weight of it, while it can’t be shrugged, while it bears down and sinks us, can, in this kind o