Dierdre 50

Cobalt blue
the frigid sky
pushed winter’s breath
and you would fly
the stolid eddies
to the solid earth
(but not to touch again
God’s family or your own)
fifty winters thence
to now unknown
no cold embrace
no dearth of fellows grasp
you must clutch the
gasping breezes close
and do not fall
and do not fail
this century’s fell beckon
your name and your
reward to reckon
your time upon you now
the wild chances
scattered just ahead
the answers in your how.