Elegia

A morning of dust, blown across my eyes;
I've been trying to focus on translating
the great wisdom I know lives in my heart;

I've been after authenticity-
some sort of truth,
but not Truth;

I want to know what I do know
and let the rest jostle and float downstream
like crimson and yellow leaves;

Oh Elegia, can't you see-
It's going to be too late for us!

In the morning,
I had my hat on backwards
My eyes on the future;

You were insensitive
Like you always are.