Fear Not

61. 17 August 2021

My photo

Fear not the years that pass like clouds overhead.

They’re slow to start with, formless and perfectly cold,

With detail upon detail: the scratchy trousers I hate,

The grandmothers who hug and seem so old,

Mummy collecting me from school and always late.

I never feared time’s flow in its stony riverbed.

*

Fear not the years that pass like birds overhead.

With children’s time so slow and mine so fast;

As Christmases and birthdays blur and make me sad.

Somehow in there my husband sickened and passed.

The years are sprinting, never still — is that so bad?

I feared time’s passage, the days like lead.

*

Fear not the years that pass like gales overhead.

Like rockets to the stars, climbing up the air.

Hungary spun past like lightning, covid too,

Global heating now, attention! Beware!

Apocalypse is coming, what can we do?

I fear Time now, we could all end up dead.

*

Fear not, my dear. Yes, you will die one day.

Sooner or later, all come under my sway.

Did you live, my dear, every flashing year?

Each hour, each minute, each second?

Each day?

Then you have nothing to fear.

Fear not.

***

I like this poem. Substack has more recent effusions.

Coffee please?