A Poem a Day into the Millennium  8 November 1999
 

BLATISSIMUS

In the beginning, it ended

With the threnody of birth...

Just the flutter of a mocking-bird

Bespeaking itself.
 
 

Time once had us firmly in its grasp:

Its knuckles are now too white

With our wriggling

For us ever to believe it invincible.
 
 

Again...