Wiseblood Books

Sonnet of Youth Departing

Anne Babson

Youth warns no one when it leaves the party.
It does not thank the hostess, then air kiss,
Then wave, hailing the hot night’s last taxi.
Youth offers no one a ride home in this
Weather, still humid and still summery,
But the wind threatens to end with a hiss
All the sunshine promises, the hearty
Picnic dates made only that we might miss
Them. The street lamp has gone all sputtery.
Soon, it will dawn a work day, and the bliss
Of second and third chances—history!
The grapes are crushed; the wine has turned to piss.
The hangover stumbles in like laity
Late for the sermon on eternity.

Comments

  1. Oh, yeah, Ms. Babson, you know, don’t you? And you have said it exactly so. Thanks.

  2. Ms. Babson,

    I loved this poem when it first appeared and love it still. One of the best.

    JOB

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