above the immortal sea,
all the stars seem to dim.
the stairs swirl upwards
and the tread is sloped.
55 years of ever forward,
behind an invisible plow.
in an everlasting drought,
saving whatever love's lost.
tilling wisdom and music,
as sprouts shrink and dry.
I live on vicarious why's,
threshing memories in time,
as time turns each to chaff,
winds blow in hurt and lust,
dormant souls return to dust,
as coral in the immortal sea.