Last Poem for Irving Layton
They are not long, the days of wine and roses
Out of a misty dream
Our path emerges for awhile, then closes
Within a dream
Ernest Dowson 1867-1900
A quiet woman, never far from tears
I contemplate the irony of life
how it often ends
not as we wish
but in implacable disintegration
They are not long, the days of wine and roses
You wanted pitchforks blazing as you left
striding with manly rage into the void
Instead, your memory failed; your daily smoke
was all that you had left of fire that burned
with such intensity
Out of a misty dream
I conjure you, and I sincerely wish
your slow departure into the unknown
your entry through that door marked Nevermore
could have been the one that you desired
Our path emerges for awhile, then closes
Within a dream
Norma West Linder
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