Fifty Five.(3Feb)

Wordsworth said;
"The world is too much with us
Late and soon.
Getting and giving we lay waste our powers."

He feels now that it was ever thus
That the time was always against him.
He has grown past his beloved, troublesome brother
but says with distinction;
"From the very beginning it was doomed".

He stirs in his mind and passes to the past
the dirt floor hut, the smells of manure and poverty.
He moves to a time when a bed-ridden mother
was too busy 'enjoying ill health'
And was 'beyond caring.' (Henry Lawson)

With chickens on the table and the call from the bedroom
the escape was down the paddocks and into self.
Did it get worse? No just different but
ever thus, forever forward fitfully forging
dreams that ended in dust.

Looking back and into the world gone
At fifty five the hindsight of seeing
It was inevitable that it would all end
with the memories of negative scenes
and even the children are thought of as
sick or sad or resisting.

At fifty five where was a man to be
When he longed for higher duties and refined thought?
At fifty five where could he be because it seems
(As Don McLean sings) "All roads lead to where I stand".
His roads were long, windy, dusty, and rocky
And it seems forever thus, for him.

My love didn't change anything, in the end.
My love didn't give any renewal of hope
It gave babies and time, and my youth and my dreams
so at fifty five we stand together
squinting our eyes against the setting sun
along the dusty road we must walk together.

Happy Birthday!