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Wherefore and Whither - 0102 - For Annie Boudet
Now you'd know where fate's flowing if you abide with me,
and wonder where we're going, what could provide the key?
The future you'd be knowing, how will life fare for thee?
but all's in vain, this trowing, when we lack liberty.
Ringed golden debt is owing, yet you remain too free.
The fused frustrations growing attack you, fair chérie,
for Time's swift furrow's showing no longer twenty three.
Though sun each morrow's flowing, it sets too speedily.
There'll be no plights bestowing, lest spite spite enmity,
though sorrow may be sowing, we haste to heresy.
Away you should be stowing all memory of me.
(3 October 1975)
poem
by
Jonathan Robin
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