To listen to Tchaikovsky
And ponder the crowd
New books to write
New symphonies for my ears
I speak up and respond
But I kid you not tonight
To my own world and those hymns I belong
Ancient but true the chords play on
Today is history and the songs of
Tomorrow to my ears are dust
I take shelter in the past
And wisdom amazingly still passed down
The future has brought access and excess
What remains of the day are the facts
I may sit here and appear to you drinking alone
Vodka with wings
The ability to ignore
the society in which I live and somehow still believe in wisdom.
My glass gets shorter,
But I order on.
I will make a destination for truth
On another nightly somber cruise.
I will just be here drinking with Tchaikovsky and ponder summer and compose on.