Surrounded by the senior-sweet sound
Of memory’s belles, solitary man
Smiles, ankle-fogged, in the last-second avenue.
Miles have been travailed, promises kept.
Above him, reflected in truth-deep eyes
The traditional gunpowder trickery traces
Annual, flash- fast chemical lies
Across the change of year clouded skies.
He has walked with villains, heroes, ghosts
And the closest of friends; is here,
Momentarily abandoning habitual restlessness
To show proper respect, to honour the past.
For the future coming will test wits and will
But may also bring health and new adventure.
